


Not Another Spider-Man Origin Story

by NoveltyToy



Series: A Series of Seriously Bad Decisions [3]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Spectacular Spider-Man (Cartoon), Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Autistic Character, Bad Decisions, Bullying, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fake Character Death, Friends With Benefits, Genderqueer Character, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Multi, Origin Story, POV Multiple, Past Child Abuse, Practice Kissing, Sexual Experimentation, Slow Build, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoveltyToy/pseuds/NoveltyToy
Summary: I've developed an addiction to writing/developing backstory. Please, someone help me! So far this part of the series is collecting pieces of Peter Parker's backstory. One of the main focuses is Peter and Harry's friendship. Most major events will probably occur during Peter's Sophomore Year at Midtown High, as this is the year of the famous field trip, the Spider Bite, and Uncle Ben's tragic death. I also have this idea for adapting Deadpool's character so that he may have a role in helping Peter develop is super-heroic persona.





	1. Summary of Events and Trigger Warnings

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know! I can't finish anything! I have so many drafts and story notes scattered everywhere. This project was only meant to be for weird porn, but it keeps growing out of control. There's just more and more backstory that I want to explore before I feel comfortable moving forward. I guess, I just really want you to understand what's going on with all of my characters and how deeply they all care for each other before I tear it all to pieces and set everything on fire.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This "Chapter" is here to be used as a Quick Reference for myself and any readers that may be sensitive to trigger related content or want to have access to more thorough chapter summaries.
> 
> **If you don't like spoilers,** _feel free to skip ahead to the first real chapter!_

#### Chapter Breakdowns.

* * *

* 00:

The Night Richard and Mary Parker Died 

**Featured Characters:**  Peter Parker, Richard Parker, Mary Parker, Uncle Ben, Aunt May, Phil Coulson.

 **Trigger Warnings:** Mention of character death.

**Summary:**

**Planned Plot Development:**

  * Agent Coulson is the one tasked with informing Ben and May Parker that Mary and Richard are MIA and presumed dead. 
  * Mary died while Richard Parker miraculously survived the plane crash. But Richard (for unspecified reasons) uses the opportunity to fake his death and go underground. 



* * *

* ??:

The Girl Next Door (Little Miss Mary Jane Watson)

**Featured Characters:**  

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

 **Summary:** Mary Jane is going to be famous actress when she grows up. Aunt May praises MJ for having a "wonderful personality," and teases Peter about his obvious crush on MJ.

I'm still brainstorming specific scenes that will properly showcase the characters at this stage in their lives and best enhance the overall impression of character development over time.

I definitely want to include a comment by May Parker about MJ's "wonderful personality" prior to her introduction. May may want to reassure Peter that MJ will be easy to get along with, but rather than being reassured Peter prepares himself for ultimate disappointment.  

**Planned Plot Development:**

  * Establishing Peter's childhood friendship with MJ, and also how quickly he begins to form a crush on her. 



* * *

* ??:

The Kid on the Corner

**Featured Characters:**  Eugene "Flash" Thompson and Peter Parker. 

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

**Summary:**

Eugene's father is a legend on the police force. Flash talks about how he's going to be a cop or a soldier when he grows up. He's going to be a hero. Eugene and Peter both bond over their collection of Captain America comic books. Peter tells Eugene about how the famous shield that The Mighty Captain America wields was designed by Howard Stark. Pete can't keep up with Eugene, his asthma slows him down and he has poor coordination.   

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

Falling Out, Drifting Apart (Working Title)

**Featured Characters:**  Peter Parker, Mary Janr Watson, Flash Thompson. 

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

**Summary/Preview:**

Flash has been spending more and more time doing sports and hasn't had very much free time to hangout with Peter. When Flash invites Peter to hangout with his new friends, Peter doesn't understand their roughhousing and teasing and becomes upset. An argument ensues between Uncle Ben and Officer Thompson after Eugene accidentally hurts Peter. Flash was unintentionally starts to bully Peter. As far as Flash is concerned, he was just giving the kid a little grief and repeating the sort of cruelty that he's starting to learn from his father and the other boys. Peter should have thicker skin, it was just a joke.

Flash's father comments on not wanting his son to hang out with no old hippies or pansy ass little faggots. He's disgusted with the Parker's parenting style. "You let the boy live in his head and his books and he'll never learn how to interact with other people. Gotta let kids learn how sort things out for themselves. There's a helluva lot more to life than a goddamn participation trophy, and your boy Pete hasn't even earned that much." 

Uncle Ben slams the door. Makes a fit over it.  "Peter's not gay," he tells Aunt May. "Not that we would love him any less if he was, but he's not. Thompson is way out of line in suggesting that." 

"I know, dear."

"And that's all beside the point, anyhow, where does he get off on telling us how we should raise Peter?" 

Peter overhears and bears witness to just enough of Ben and May's conversation that he understands that it's just better not to associate with the Thompson's anymore.  They're mean people.  

Flash has officially turned from friend to Enemy. 

Flash doesn't understand why Peter doesn't hangout with him anymore. "Stupid Egghead," he curses him. He picks on Peter just to get a reaction out of him. He can't walk over there and admit that he misses him. That he misses the days when they were like brothers.

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

The New Kid 

**Featured Characters:**  Harry Osborn, Peter Parker, Principal Stan Lee. Additionally, mentions of Norman Osborn, Flash Thompson.

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

**Summary:**

Harry transfers into Midtown Junior High. The school is buzzing with excitement at this recent development. The teachers have all been extremely attentive - more so than usual - in insisting that everyone be on their best behavior. This is helped along by the looming presence of a hulking dude in a dark suit that's been consistently hovering around the newbie all day.

From what he gathered, the big guy is a bodyguard. He overhears some of the other kids gossiping about how Harry Osborn is the son of a billionaire. His father can't be - is he really? Norman Osborn? The Norman Osborn of OsCorp Industries? Okay, so it doesn't even begin to rival Stark Industries in terms of the raw, unrefined cool factor, but Peter has done enough research to know that OsCorp is one of a few major corporations that are making some serious breakthroughs in biochemistry, genetics, and nano-tech.  

Norman Osborn himself, one of the three founders of OsCorp, has multiple PhD's, most notably in Chemistry and Electrical Engineering.  

Peter's Science fanboying aside, his curiosity about Harry is squashed when he hears tale of how Harry got suspended from his private school. 

Peter observes him from a distance, can't help but notice that this boy has a dazzling smile. He's aloof but not totally off-putting. Peter thinks that Harry looks rather sad.  

 _'Best not to even try,'_ Peter decides with a terrible sinking feeling in his gut. The last thing Puny Parker needs is another bully breathing down his neck. Peter thinks that even if he did manage to befriend the rich kid before Harry realizes what a dumb know-it-all Pete is, then it would still only be a matter of time before Harry realized he could make more friends if he just kicked Petey to the curb and joined in with jeering at him like everyone else. 

Nevermind how much it pulls at Peter's heartstrings, watching from a distance as Harry chooses to spend lunch sitting alone in a dark corner. He thinks that Harry looks really lonely, but helping other people has never been Peter's responsibility. He needs to look out for himself, and right now that means ducking out of sight before Midtown's resident asshat get tired of checking out the new kid and remember that a certain brown haired dweeb has gone almost an entire day without being harassed. 

**Planned Plot Development:**

  * Harry Osborn transfers into Midtown Junior High School. 
  * Peter entertains some outrageous fantasies about what it might be like to meet Norman Osborn. Pete has some half formed ideas about how to approach Harry, to maybe possibly befriend him, but shies away after he hears tale of what got Harry kicked out of private school. 



* * *

* ??:

The Bad Touch

**Featured Characters:**  Mary Jane Watson, MJ's Dad, ...

 **Trigger Warnings:**  Underage, Child Molestation, Abuse

 **Summary/Preview:** (Would like to divide into two parts, a  _Flashback_ to what happened and a conversation where MJ and Harry discuss their experiences with the Bad Touch. Neither one is completely honest about the full extent of what happened to them.)

MJ's Dad is another officer on the force and a friend of Officer Thompson. She's having personal struggles. Harry wants to befriend her. She's wary of the new kid, but then he sits down and honestly explains ... they begin flirting and hanging out with each other, MJ helping him to create a his new image at Midtown while he promises to help her in other ways. 

Her father and some of his friends make gross comments as she develops. "Gonna hav'ta beat the boy's off with a stick, Watson." 

"Pretty little thing like that, gonna have to keep a close eye on her." 

"Good little girls are seen and not heard." 

"Keep her yap shut, the game is on."

"Go fetch us some sammiches, Red. Chips and dip. Something. We're starving over here."

Eventually MJ excuses herself from the little party to go use the bathroom. Bobby heads to the kitchen, and then moves to hover just outside the bathroom until MJ finishes in there. Then he manages to grab her and drag her up the stairs and into her bedroom.  

That asshole tries to feel her up while Daddy and the other's were still distracted downstairs.

"Pretty girl like you must drive all the boy's crazy. You let any of them in for a joy ride yet?"  

He's drunk. He smells gross. His hands are clumsy, but he's much stronger than she is. 

She's too scared. She thinks about screaming, but should she? 

Daddy finds them. Punches his buddy in the nose, drags him to the door and tosses him out on the street.  

MJ is relieved. 

Daddy tells everyone else to grab their things and leave.

MJ is still crying in the bathroom while they all clear out.   

Daddy is pissed. "Stupid sonofabitch," he's upset with his friend. But he turns his anger on MJ, "what'd you do that for, huh?" 

"I didn't-" 

He slaps the counter with an open palm, not hard enough to break anything, but the sound of the impact is loud and scary. 

"I don't know what -" 

"Dammit, do you know what you are, Mary Jane? You're jail-bait. And Bobby - damn fool that he is, Bobby is still a good man. Confused and frustrated. His wife just left him over some stupid side piece that he couldn't keep under-wraps."  

Mary Jane didn't understand how any of this had anything to do with her. 

"You can't tempt men like that."

She hadn't meant for Bobby to follow her to the bathroom and she certainly hadn't invited him into her bedroom. 

**Planned Plot Development:**

  * Harry and MJ both confide in each other about their experiences with the Bad Touch. 
  * Harry confesses to MJ that he thought he was gay, but now he's not so sure if that's truly the case. He's always liked boys, for as long as he could remember, but someone (Eddie) strongly dissuaded him from thinking of girls like that. But now that someone isn't around, Harry is wanting to revisit and revise all the assumptions he had about himself. And now he kind of - sort of - maybe wants to kiss her, if - if that would be okay. 
  * MJ is okay with it. She and Harry share a kiss. 



* * *

* ??:

When Petey Met Harry

**Featured Characters:**  

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

**Summary/Preview:**

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

A Wealthy Benefactor

**Featured Characters:**  

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

**Summary/Preview:**

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

"Puny Parker" /Penis Comparisons

**Featured Characters:**  Peter and Harry. 

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

 **Summary/Preview:** After Peter is pantsed and humiliated by Flash, he earns the nickname "Puny Parker." (And "Puny Penis" when no adults are close enough to overhear.) This makes Peter feel ridiculously insecure about his manhood. To help Peter feel better, Harry suggests a little "you show me yours, I'll show you mine," and the boys compare dick sizes. 

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

Schoolyard Fights

**Featured Characters:**  

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

 **Summary/Preview:** Harry defends Pete's honor by getting into fights with Peter's bullies 

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

The Battle of New York

**Featured Characters:**  

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

 **Summary/Preview:** The city is invaded by aliens and defended by the Avengers. There's mass panic. Norman drops whatever he was working on and gets both Harry and Peter out of the city/to safety.

**Planned Plot Development:**

  * Peter Parker is (technically) abducted by Norman Osborn for the duration of the attack. Given the extenuating circumstances, no charges are ever filed.



* * *

* ??:

Petey in Paris with the Osborns

**Featured Characters:**  Peter, Harry and Norman.

 **Trigger Warnings:**  Underage Sexual Experimentation.

 **Summary/Preview:** They vacation in Paris over the Summer. (A working vacation for Norman.) While Norman attends to secret business (on behalf of both OsCorp and his secret Scryer affiliates), Peter and Harry decide that a trip to Paris can't be complete without a little romance. 

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

Youthful Curiosity, Go on and Kiss the Boy

**Featured Characters:**  

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

 **Summary/Preview:** Peter and Harry practice kissing after Peter expresses curiosity about what that's like.

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

The Field Trip

**Featured Characters:**  

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

 **Summary/Preview:** The events that lead to Peter acquiring his Spider Powers.

**Planned Plot Development:**

  * Peter being bitten by the mutated spider was not an accident. Eddie very discretely and purposefully placed the spider inside the collar of Peter's shirt and provoked the creature to bite Pete and inject him with what Eddie thought would be a deadly dose of venom. 
  * Peter survives, obviously, but just barely. He is too sick to make it home on his own, so Harry brings him back to the penthouse. Norman, seeing the poor state Peter is in (and being under the impression that Peter is Harry's secret boyfriend), decides to expose Peter to the super serum that he and Professor Stromm developed years ago because admist a sudden episode of mental instability he thinks that this is the only way to save Peter's life. 
  * Following Peter's combined exposure to the mutated spider venom and the super serum, Peter's health begins to improve, and Norman sends Peter home before he has a chance to wake up (suddenly remembering to be wary of what might happen if anyone ever finds out that he just used an experimental formula on a teenager without so much as even telling the boy's parental guardian that he was ill). 
  * When Peter awakes the next day he has no memory of even being brought to the Osborn's and he is under the impression that the changes in his body can all somehow be attributed to the strange spider bite. 



* * *

* ??:

Butt Buddies

**Featured Characters:**  

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

 **Summary/Preview:** Harry seduces Peter. Anal sex happens. There's lots of feels and hurt/comfort. 

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

The Making of Spider-Man

**Featured Characters:**  Peter Parker, Wade Wilson, ...

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

**Summary/Preview:**

Peter discovers his new superpowers. Naturally, he does what any superhero obsessed teenage boy would do, and he immediately begins making plans for how he can develop an heroic persona and develop the skills necessary to score himself an invitation to join The Avengers. 

This entails costume shenanigans, exploring a career as a professional fighter, designing webshooters, befriending a mercenary, deciding on a suitable name, and - oh, yeah - fighting crime with some mixed and very embarrassing results. 

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

Mean Girls

**Featured Characters:** Sally Avril, Peter Parker, Harry Osborn, Mary Jane and Gwen. 

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

 **Summary/Preview:** Sally Avril partners up with Peter in one of their science classes. She pretends to flirt with Peter, because she wants to get closer to Harry. Harold sees right through her attempts and calls her out on it. Meanwhile, Peter still thinks that maybe Sally Avril might actually like him.

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

Harry's PoV post-Spider Bite

**Featured Characters:**  

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

 **Summary/Preview:** Harry is Peter's best friend, so of course he realizes that something is up with his friend. 

**Planned Plot Development:**

* * *

* ??:

Uncle Ben, The Man, The Myth, The Catchphrase

**Featured Characters:**  

 **Trigger Warnings:**   

 **Summary/Preview:** Aunt May and The Squad all attend Uncle Ben's funeral. Harry and MJ and Gwen all try to be there for Peter, but Pete pushes them away. He's on a mission to find the guy who killed Ben. And when he tracks him down, he recognizes him as the same thief that he failed to stop that night. Peter decides to embrace his responsibilities. He wants to be like is heroes, like The Avengers, and he can't afford to wait.

**Planned Plot Development:**


	2. The Night Richard and Mary Parker Died

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Status: Incomplete Draft. 
> 
> The Purpose behind this chapter is to get a glimpse of Peter's relationship with his Aunt and Uncle _prior_ to his parents deaths. Also, to give a little more information about Mary and Richard's backstory. _The Final Part_ of this chapter is so that I can make room for the possibility of someone surviving the plane crash that killed Peter's parents and eventually having that man cross paths with Spider-Man.
> 
> Character Notes:  
> * In my version, Aunt May and Uncle Ben are _not_ an elderly couple.  
>  * Uncle Ben was Richard's _younger_ brother.  
>  * They were still in their early to mid-20s when they took custody of Peter.  
> * Richard Parker joined the military straight out of high school.  
> * Richard hoped to pay for college with his military service.  
> * Richard's big ambition was to become a scientist and an inventor.  
> * Mary was a CIA Agent before being recruited into SHIELD.  
> * Mary Fitzpatrick and Richard Parker became 'a thing' after running cliché missions posed as a married couple.  
> * But they didn't officially become a couple until Mary accidentally became pregnant with Peter.

Peter was only six years old.

It wasn't unusual for Uncle Ben and Aunt May to house-sit and watch over Peter while his parents went away on business. Richard and Mary Parker both racked up quite a few frequent flier miles between them. Sometimes they'd be gone for weeks at a time.

Mary and Richard would give their son a big hug, Pete would promise to be on his best behavior for Aunt May and Uncle Ben, the adults would quickly go over their emergency contact information and say their goodbyes. And then - _then_ Peter would sit on the floor and play with his toys so he wouldn't have to watch his parents leave, because that was always the hardest part. He never really knew where they were going or when or _if_ they would be back, the time frames on these trips had an annoying tendency to change at the last minute.  Something or other would crop up or their flights would be delayed or just  _something_ was always stopping them from coming home.

Still, even if he wasn't watching, it tore Pete's heart to pieces when he heard the door close behind them and the car pulling away from the driveway. At that point, he might run over to the window before he could stop himself and just catch a glimpse of the vehicle before it vanished around the corner. Aunt May or Uncle Ben would try to invite him to sit down with them, but he was never much in the mood for company when his parents were gone.

Mary and Richard would have barely been gone for five minutes yet and Peter would already feel the ache of loneliness and bitter bite of resentment at being left in the care of Richard's rambunctious younger brother and sister-in-law. All Peter would want to do is curl up in his room and be alone while he waited for his parents to come home. 

He'd keep busy reading the books they left for him so obsessively that he'd have them all memorized front to back by the time they were expected to return. And he'd work on whatever projects they'd got him started on. By the time Peter was three years old, Mary had already taken to charting out her son's academic progress and planning accelerated courses, hoping to fast track him through primary school. Some small part of Peter maybe thought that if he took initiative, that if he was good enough, then maybe that would be enough to make them stay home. Or failing that, maybe one day he could be brave enough to go with them. He could be helpful, like a lab assistant, if he could just get over his crippling anxiety in the face of new situations.  

...

 

The _what, where_ and _why_ of these trips was always ambiguous at best. Some sort of science conference or consultation.  

Uncle Ben had his suspicions, but he trusted Richard implicitly. He never asked for more information than his big brother offered, and maybe, in retrospect, he should have. 

Pete always got a bit fussy, frustrated with the way that Aunt May often forgot or just didn't care about enforcing Peter's set routines. Things needed to be done in a very specific way, but Uncle Ben kept saying it wasn't a big deal. Ben didn't think kids should have to adhere to such a strict schedule. Uncle Ben didn't understand why Peter liked it so much better when things were predicable, why Peter  _needed_ his day to proceed occurring to plan. 

"Isn't it more fun to play it by ear? Fly by the seat of your pants every once in a while. Stop to smell the roses, kiddo. Relax." 

"Ya know, the rest of the world isn't always going to follow your expectations. Eventually, you'll need to adapt."

"Shake things up! It's good for you to learn how to deal with change." 

...

 

Aunt May and Uncle Ben loved hanging out with Peter (preferably in small doses). He was a cute kid, very precocious. His favorite word when he turned four was "technically," and he was a little smart aleck shit whenever May or Ben ever miscalculated or misspoke. "No, _technically,_  I think you meant to say..." And so on. After May made the mistake of leaving on a game show while she did some cleaning, Peter went a step further and adopted the annoying habit of making an obnoxious buzzer sound whenever they said something he knew to be wrong.   

He'd even quiz Aunt May and Uncle Ben with all the trivia he learned. He stole Aunt May and Uncle Ben's college textbooks, helping them to make and utilize their flashcards as a fun little game to keep his hands and mind occupied. Even when he wasn't old enough to completely understand the concepts, Peter's mind was still a steel trap for memorizing anything that he read and being a _know-it-all_ seemed like a compliment from his perspective. 

...

 

Richard's cozy family home was the sort that the two poor college kids were looking forward to eventually having for themselves. It was good practice, they thought, getting a preview of what their married life might look like if they ever had kids of their own or ever decided to take on the responsibility of home ownership themselves. But they were both looking forward to seeing Richard and Mary again. 

"Peter, dear, go back to bed." 

"But I can't sleep. Mommy and Daddy are supposed to be home by now. They promised, they said -" 

"Their flight was delayed, honey. We'll be sure to tell them to go check on you as soon as they come home. But there's no sense in having you wait up for them, is there? If you stay up all night, it'll mess up your routine tomorrow." 

Peter scowled, _"Now_ you care about that? What about all that _adaptability_ crap?" 

Ben gave him a quick little swat on his rear for that, "Watch your language, kiddo."

"You say crap all the time," he groused and rubbed at his bottom.

"Not in front of your Aunt May, I don't. You treat her like a proper lady, son."

Aunt May fought the urge to call bullshit. Instead, she put on her best attempt at being stern and matronly by cutting in to say, "That's enough, you two. Now, _Petey-honey,_ off to bed with you. _Shoo."_

Reluctantly, little Peter Parker stomped his way up the stairs. He barely set foot on the second-floor landing when there was a loud knock at the front door.  

Ben and May glanced up at the clock, looking mildly upset and a bit worried by this interruption. "Who could that be at this hour?" May asked as she took a peek out the window and saw a black sedan parked at the curb. Ben followed her to the door where a man in a black suit was waiting outside. 

"Ben and May Parker?" The man asked. 

"Who's asking?" 

"My name is Phil Coulson, I work with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."

"Good lord, that's a mouthful," May commented, her arms crossed and brow arched as she looked the stranger up and down. Why was a government suit standing on their doorstep at this hour?

"It is. I'm sorry," he paused. The air outside was brisk, but not unbearably cold. He seemed to regret what he had to say before he even said it. "May I come inside?" Phil asked.  

Aunt May and Uncle Ben shared a meaningful glance before letting him in and leading him into the kitchen. Peter's butt was parked at the top of the stairs and he was watching them like a hawk. May caught sight of him and wagged her finger, "Off to bed, Peter. _Now."_  

When the stranger, Phil Coulson, glimpsed up at the small boy, he visibly winced. This job was already difficult enough. 

"This is about Richard and Mary, isn't it?" Ben asked as he took a seat. 

"Would anyone like some tea? I think I could use some -" 

"May, sit down," Ben's commanding tone of voice left no room for argument. Tea wasn't going to make this any easier. He turned his full attention on Mr. Coulson as May finally stopped fidgeting and collapsed into the seat next to Ben. "What happened to them? Where are they?" 

"Just off the coast of _I Can't Say Exactly Where,_ but I -" Phil's voice cracked, and he needed a short moment to compose himself, "I can assure you that we won't stop looking."  

May gasped and Ben's face darkened even more than before. _"What happened?"_ He repeated his first question. 

"A plane crash," it wasn't a lie, but it was only a half-truth at best and they both knew it. "We can't say with absolute certainty at this point, but our projections say that no one is expected to survive. We haven't - there hasn't been enough time yet to thoroughly search the wreckage. I'm sorry, Mr. Parker." 

Phil gave them some time to process their grief, waiting quietly and trying not to watch too intently as May reached for Ben's hand and they squeezed each other tightly while they fought off tears. Ben was radiating a quiet sort of rage while May just looked heartbroken by the news. It all made the next part even more difficult.  

Phil cleared his throat, trying in vain to keep a calm, respectful air under these circumstances, especially since Ben seemed like he was waiting for an excuse to punch his lights out.

"I understand that you were both expecting Mary and Richard to return today." He quickly went on to explain, "I can send for someone to - _to take custody of Peter,_ until arrangements can be made." 

 _"What?"_ May was still reeling from the loss, she could barely process what he meant to say, but Ben was already reacting with anger. 

"What do you mean?" He growled, _"Wha_ _t 'arrangements?'_ We're the only family Peter has left. _You're not taking him."_

"I understand you're upset, Mr. Parker, but -" Phil was trying to reason with them _,_ but there was just no polite way to say what needed to be said. Richard trusted his brother to look after his son, but to actually raise Peter when Ben was hardly grown himself? Phil and Richard weren't exactly friends, but Phil was familiar with Mary's assessment. 

Mary hadn't considered Ben and May to be ready for this much responsibility, _Ben especially._ In the event of their untimely deaths, Mary would've wanted SHIELD take custody of Peter and see that he's placed in a safe home that could cultivate his unique talents. But Richard never signed off on the necessary paperwork, he'd been too conflicted. Torn between wanting what's best for Peter and not quite knowing what was more important: the boy's training or his family? 

"But under these circumstances, can you both say that you're really prepared for this responsibility? Peter has special needs -"

 

... 

* * *

 

A rundown little fish-shack on the coast of _  
I Can't Say Exactly Where,_

A faceless man half-stumbled, half-dragged himself through the doors. He rifled through supplies searching for a first aid kit. The gauze, the tape, ointment and band-aids were all woefully insufficient and out of date. He turned his attention to the tool kits and procured a lighter, knives, and a bottle of alcohol. He was decided, he would have to make due for the moment. There wasn't time for anything else. _Never enough time,_ but especially _not now._

He was distracted only briefly by the howling of the wind against the thin walls of the shack. It sounded as if this decrepit little building could crash down over his head at any second. The sound of helicopters cutting through the sky overhead wasn’t real, but perhaps it was. His heart leapt up in this throat, his esophagus burned, and he could already taste the bile before he choked it back down. There was a trail of blood between the shore and this shack, flecks and bloody handprints over everything he touched. Which was all bad enough without adding more mess to the evidence left in his wake. He tried not to think, not to waste his worry on whether he'd been followed. Because it was only a matter of time before they found him. _'_ _Not if, but when. It's an eventuality. Accept it. Move on.'_

Right now, his only priority was staying alive. Cauterize and bandage the wounds. Form a plan of escape. He couldn’t stay here forever. Not that the horrid fish smell or miniscule accommodations weren’t appealing. In his current state, even the wooden bench, threadbare blanket and rumpled jacket seemed an inviting place to sleep. But no, even if he was so inclined, he couldn’t possible stay any longer than it would take to stop the bleeding and destroy the evidence that he’d ever been here at all. _‘Run. Hide. Live to fight another day.’_

The lavatory was barely three steps away, but the distance seemed to stretch into a mile from where he was braced against the workbench. He needed to keep moving. But he couldn't. He hurt too bad. Everything hurt so, so bad. Forget the lousy cot in the corner, he could just as easily collapse and sleep on the floor. _‘So tired. Who could blame me?’_ It was a miracle that he’d even made it this far. He could die here, all alone. _‘What would it even matter?’_ The despair was accompanied by a cold, visceral reality that wrapped around his limbs and seeped into his bones until his whole body felt numb with it. _‘What do I still have left to live for anyway?’_

 ** _‘The Mission.’_** It wasn’t over. That thought filled him with anger. The rage heated his blood and provoked his body into motion. _The Mission_ was a bust. _They’d been betrayed._ He didn’t know if there was anyone in the world left that he could trust. No one. _Not even family._ No one would be safe. Those that didn’t want to kill him were doomed to be collateral damage if he went anywhere near them. If his enemies knew he survived, they would hunt him down like a rabid dog.

That seemed like a fair comparison. ‘ _Sick and feral,’_ he thought, using his teeth to tear open a package of alcohol wipes that he’d messily dumped onto the floor as he stumbled into the bathroom. The tap water had left a slimy residue on his hands. It belatedly occurred to him that it should be worrisome that he couldn’t remember the last thirty seconds. He resolved to stay focused on what was directly in front of him. He cleansed the blood and the grime from his hands best as he could with the wipes before more closely considering his injuries and the tools at his disposal.

He was a doctor, _not a medical doctor,_ but he could handle this.

_'Failure is not an option.'_

Failure meant death. Game Over. The end.

_He needed to keep moving._

The bathroom mirror was cracked. The corners of the ceiling were all covered in cobwebs. The place was filthy. Unsanitary. Unfit. This was not ideal, but there weren't many other options. None, in fact. There was no suitable place for a medical procedure were available, so he would just have to make due with what he has. And he did.

He fell back on his training as much as he could. It was shockingly, disturbingly easy to disassociate himself from the pain after he caught sight of his reflection. It wasn't him staring back. It was no one, the man in the mirror was barely even a person anymore. _'Is that what I am now?'_ He let the thought go. There was no time for an existential crisis.

The pain didn't fade. Hardly, no. But then he hadn't really expected it to. The pain reminded him that he was still alive, that there was still something left to fight for. _Survival._ Because that's what he was doing just then. That's what this was. If he didn't keep fighting through the pain, if he let his grief swallow him whole, _he was going to die._

Green-blue beautiful hazel eyes flashed in his mind's eye before he remembered the way they had looked glazed over with death and fire burning, _burning, burning_ all around them _._ The man glanced up at his reflection again. The fire had licked him to. He could still remember the heat. _Blinding, burning, red hot._ He should've died. It was a miracle, _a miracle,_ that he survived. A miracle that would all be for naught if he didn't _keep moving._  

 


	3. Zoo Outing with Anna Watson, The Parkers, MJ and Flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featured Characters: Aunt May, Uncle Ben, Anna Watson, Peter, MJ, Eugene "Flash" Thompson.
> 
> Timeline note: Peter is in the second grade.
> 
> Summary: They go on a small outing to the zoo. The adults have an adult discussion centered around Peter's development while the children are enthralled by the tiger exhibit.

One hot summer day, the grown-ups all decided to take the children for a little outing at the zoo. Peter was quite insistent, he wanted to see the tigers. The tigers! “Can we go see the tigers _now?”_ he asked _again and again_ until **finally** they worked their way over to the exhibit.

“So you like big pussies, huh?” Eugene elbowed Pete. MJ snorted. Uncle Ben hit Flash upside the back of his head for that comment.

“Behave,” he said.

“What?” Flash groused, “Wha’d I say? Geez.”

MJ grabbed Peter by the hand and dragged him along to try and find a better view, “Come on, Tiger!”

“Wait for me!” Flash called after them. 

Miss Watson, May and Ben all stood back, but kept a watchful eye.

“MJ and Peter are so adorable together, don’t you think?” Miss Watson commented. “And your Peter, he’s such a sweet little boy.”

“You haven’t hardly heard that ‘sweet little boy’ snark and sass back,” Ben told her.

“He’s a good boy,” May explained, “but he gets so bored in school. Busy work, he complains. He prefers independent study.”

“He’s only in the second grade,” Anna Watson spoke with a note of disbelief. “I catch that boy running around with his shoes on the wrong feet and his shirt inside out half the time.” 

May spoke very fondly as she defended her nephew’s odd behavior, “He’s a little scatterbrained sometimes, but when he sits down with just his books and his kits, he comes alive and I’ve never seen anyone so focused as he is during his studies.”

“He’s in a class of his own,” Ben was a little less light hearted in his praise, “Mary and Richard would’ve wanted to see him placed in an accelerated program. Something for gifted children, but how is a boy like Peter going to stay grounded and humble if he’s put under a microscope so young? With expectations like that…”

“Sometimes expectations can be hard to live up to,” May sympathized. Ben had once been a gifted youngster, not as ‘gifted’ as Richard, but she knew well the complaints Ben had of crippling anxiety when he got to college and realized his talents weren’t nearly as special as he’d been led to believe.

Anna looked thoughtful. “You don’t want that for Pete?” 

“He’s a damn prodigy,” Ben complained.

 _"Language,”_ May hissed with a pointed gesture towards the children who were several yards in front of them. 

“He’s too smart for his own good,” Ben continued on without acknowledging May’s rebuke. He was addressing a very interested looking Miss Watson directly at this point. “That’s the problem. He already spends so much time in self-imposed solitary,” he sighed, “I just worry. I don’t want the pressure to go to his head. I don’t want him to get so caught up that he forgets to be a kid.”

“He’ll be an ace academic someday for sure,” May contributed, “but we don’t want him to get so caught up in intellectual fulfillment that he might fail to make and sustain personal connections.”

“He seems to interact fine with MJ and Flash,” Anna tried to reassure them.

“But he finds it so draining,” May sounded deeply troubled as she said this. “And I don’t mean any offense towards Eugene or Mary Jane. They’re wonderful, they really are, but even they wear him down. He can study for hours on end without getting tired, but any form of extended social interaction is exhausting for him.”

Anna nodded in understanding.

"Books and things,” May continued, “those are concepts that he can easily grasp, but making friends? It’s not easy.” She was perhaps belaboring the point beyond necessity, but she wasn’t quite ready to abandon this subject and neither Ben nor Anna had yet tried to divert the conversation. However, the topic was officially dropped after they heard a loud shriek from the children. The two boys waved their hands in the air to attract their attention while MJ pointed at the exhibit with a look of horror on her face.

The adults all rushed forward, “What’s wrong? What is it, Mary Jane?”

“Look!” she cried, “The big one just jumped on the other one, he’s hurting her!”

“Oh, _dear lord,”_ Anna cursed under her breath. Ben similarly grumbled and rolled his eyes. May couldn’t restrain a bark of laughter. 

One of the tigers had mounted a smaller one from behind and they appeared to be…

“I think that’s our signal,” Ben commented.

“Yes!” Watson agreed, “Move along, children, it’s time for the next exhibit.”

 _“But – but!”_ Mary Jane protested.

“Don’t worry,” May smiled, “The tigers will be just fine. They’re just playing with each other.” 

Watson groaned at that description and nudged the kids shoulders to shepherd them away from the exhibit. “Move along, nothing to see here. _Let’s go!”_


	4. When Petey Met Harry (Working Title)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scene Leading Up To "A Rich Benefactor" (Along Came Petey From Peter's POV) / "Drive By Charity Case" (More Working Titles)
> 
> The boys are in the seventh grade (age 12, if I did my math right, their birthdays are both in the spring).

#### Seventh Grade Sucks

Peter's day had been rotten from the very start. He'd gotten distracted on his way to the bus stop, completely zoning out until it drove right past him. He ran after the bus for two blocks, waving and shouting - completely out of breath by the time he finally gave up. He'd had to use his emergency inhaler and then rush back to grab his bike. Which all caused him to be late for first period.

Flash and his cohorts wouldn't cut poor Petey a break at school today, either. His laces had been tied together during lunch and he almost face planted when he got up to go dump his tray. Worse, he got dragged to the principal's office after he got accused of trying to start a food fight, which was a complete accident! He hadn't meant to dump his tray on Tommy's lap, he'd just tripped! _Darn it._

In the office, he wasn't alone. He'd gotten to take a good look at the new kid. Harry Osborn, son of Norman Osborn - technical genius and founder of OsCorp. Peter kept a scrapbook in his room that included profiles on all the current biggest names in scientific innovation - who he wanted to meet, what questions he would want to ask them. Norman Osborn may be the first person on that list who Peter actually had a decent chance of meeting, if he could just open his mouth and say hi to Harry. 

Unfortunately, just as the moody son of a billionaire sat down next to him, Peter got called in to sort things out with the Principal. As Peter shuffled to his feet, he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, muttering a quick, "it was all just a misunderstanding," in the hopes of defending his reputation so Osborn wouldn't think him a trouble making hooligan.

"Yeah, good luck explaining that," Harry quietly laughed at him, but the sound lacked the usual note of cruelty that Pete was accustomed to hearing from his classmates.

Peter shrugged a bit helplessly, earning an amused shake of Osborn's head in response before the office assistant reminded Peter that the Principal was waiting for him. Pete cleared his throat and hurried over to the door. 

As Peter peeked inside, Principal Stan Lee was looking longingly at something in his desk drawer before he let out a sigh and glanced up to acknowledge him, "Peter. Peter Parker. What happened this time?"

"It was an accident, Sir. Honest, _I -_ I was just sitting to eat my lunch, and somehow I didn't notice. Someone snuck under the table to tie my shoes together."

Principal Stan's expression was tired but not unbelieving. "Peter, haven't we talked about this before?"

"I should - I should pay more attention to my surroundings. I know, I'm sorry, sir." It was his fault for not realizing. For being so stupid as to get up and start walking without checking his shoes first.

"Tell whatever teacher or lunch lady that made a fuss about this that I read you the riot act, and _be more careful."_

Stan got up from behind his desk, ushered Peter out the door and then stood with his arms crossed and glowering down at Harry. "Mr. Osborn."

Peter couldn't keep from shooting a curious glance behind him and caught sight of the most sparkling, innocent smile he's ever seen... just before running face first into the door.

"Mr. Parker!"

 _"I know, I know,_ I'm sorry, sir," Peter squeaked as he shuffled out of the office as quick as he could. 

 _And now,_ as he was leaving school to head home, he walked outside into a downpour! "Great, just perfect. How can this get any worse?" He complained.

Three blocks later, to his absolute horror, Parker's bike chain fell off its gears and got horribly twisted. "Fuck my life," he cried in despair.


	5. Recollections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Status: Unfinished Draft. 
> 
> **Trigger Warning:** Mention of Character Death, Guilty Feels and Angst.
> 
> I want to include a Flashback of Thirteen or Fourteen year old Harry showing Peter and MJ old family photos that he managed to find when he was preparing to move into the Penthouse. Anyway, he really just wanted to show Peter what a gangly dork Norman used to be, (also, Norman used to wear glasses, but he doesn't anymore. --unless I can convince him to wear them just for sex appeal, because mmff, I love the comic version that I've seen wearing glasses! The Goblin Formula fixed his vision, but Harry might comment something along the lies of "No, I don't think he wears contacts? He must've gotten LASIK, idk, that's not important.")

Harry was trying to demonstrate that Peter's future wasn't as bleak as it seemed (the Parker's had hit another snag with their financial troubles, Aunt May was having health problems, the medical bills were staggering for their poor family who was relying on only Ben's income, their meager savings at the time, and the goodwill of their friends to get by, and let's just say Flash was being a particularly bothersome little turd that week. Harry might be nursing some bruises after confronting the jocks for being jerkface, but in a "you should see the other guy" kind of way because Harry does a decent job of holding his own during schoolyard brawls.

 

Plus, hey, showing them embarrassing pictures of _Norman Osborn_ is therapeutic for comedic value alone.

...

"Who is the old bald dude in most of these pictures? A butler or something?" Someone is going to ask. Although, MJ might observe that he looks way too friendly and casual to be the hired help - with the way he's holding Harold and standing very close to Norman.

 _"Oh no,_ that's the Professor." Harry's smile faltered. "He was my dad's old teacher turned business partner. They founded OsCorp together."

"Why does it seem like he's in more of your family photos than your dad?"

"Because he was also my godfather. And he didn't really have a family of his own so we sort of adopted him. He moved in with us after my mom died." Harry hadn't thought about Mendel Stromm in a long time, he didn't like to remember the circumstances that surrounded his death. Specifically, the ordeal that immediately preceded Mendel's fatal heart attack. Norman told Harry that it wasn't his fault, but the way Norman had pushed him away after - _well,_ his actions were a very loud contradiction to those somber reassurances. Harry thought Norman blamed him for what happened, even if Dad didn't want to admit it.

"Huh," MJ seemed very interested in this, puzzled. "Norman never really struck me as the type to - _uhh,"_ she wasn't exactly sure what she meant to say. 

"Not the type to take in strays?" Harry finished for her. His pasted on smile was wearing thin. _"Dad was..._ He was _different_ back then. It's difficult to remember, even less easy to explain, but, I think - he was definitely _happier._ The Professor meant a lot to him. But then," Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair until it was left in a big harried mess. Harry shrugged and tried to burn a hole in the floor with the force of his anguished stare. 

Osborn was pretty obviously uncomfortable at this point and his friends were a little too curious to worry about backing off for his sake. _"Then what?"_

"What happened?"

With a big heavy sigh, Harry dropped his gaze to the floor. 

"Things happened. _Really bad things,_ and then the Professor died, suddenly, and Dad was never really the same after that." 

"Oh," Mary Jane looked sheepish. 

"I'm sorry," Peter offered, feeling more than a bit lame for not having anything of comfort to offer. _"Was he_ \- were you close?" 

Harry didn't respond for several moments, and then he bit his bottom lip to keep it from quivering while he slowly nodded. His legs folded up until his knees were pressed to his chest and he hugged himself tightly. He couldn't meet their eyes, he didn't want to be judged for this - he knew he must've looked really weak right now. 

But then he remembered that he was with friends, the best friends he'd ever had, so he decided to screw playing tough guy. The more he had tried to push his feelings down, the more things seemed to hurt, and Harry had suffered enough emotional torment already packed down deep. It was high time that he just admit to it, address it. The longer it was left to fester, the worse it got, like an infection. 

 _'Man up and talk about your feelings.'_ he told himself. _'Go ahead, even if it means you're gonna cry like a little girl. It's nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, you should be able to take pride in the fact that you're not just some heartless, narcissistic rich kid.'_

So finally, he stopped resisting and just let the sadness wash over him. He allowed himself to become immersed in the memories. _Not all his memories, mind you._ There was a lot that he wasn't allowed to say. Things that he could _never_ tell _anyone._  Secrets that could never leave the family. Secrets that were forever meant to stay between him, his father, and that one loudmouth jerkface ninja Santa Claus. 

"I was just a kid," Harry glanced over quickly, just to be sure that his friends were still listening. "I wish I could remember more. It's all so vague, just impressions of what he was like mixed in with a few stunningly detailed recollections - which, I kind of doubt the accuracy. I guess, it's probably more like pieces of many different events all shoved together and my imagination just fills in the gaps. That is how long term memory works, right? Sort of?"  

 

Oops, now I've broken off into a tangent. Well, at least it gives Harry a break from the intense feels he's having. But here's one way that I can pretty effectively describe how much Harry remembers of Mendel and what he thinks of him. Plus, this can lead to his suspicions that Norman is gay, because in retrospect, Norman's relationship with Mendel seems a bit odd. 

 

"I think, he and Dad argued a lot, but not like angry shouting or anything. Not usually, anyway, but more like -" Harry squinted his eyes while he focused on finding the right words to describe it. "More like teasing, really. Mendel would push Daddy's buttons, and call him out on it whenever he thought Dad was being too mean or grumpy." Since he died, that role went unfilled, and that left a gaping hole in their lives. "It seems like a lifetime ago," Harry slouched back against the couch cushions. "I don't think I ever knew the Professor well enough to truly miss _him,_ but I think when he was around we acted more like a family." 


	6. Practice Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Set Up: Harry and Peter are both in seventh grade now. Peter expresses curiosity about what kissing feels like. Harry decides a demonstration is in order. 12/13 years old.
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings:** adolescent boys experimenting with their sexuality, Peter missing the obvious, Norman showing up and suffering very subtle schitzophrenic auditory hallucination, and some very biased opinions of Tony Stark.
> 
> Peter and Harry's first kiss is super disappointing, sorry. Don't get your hopes up. But the second attempt will be better. And third time's the charm. 
> 
> This is only a draft with no definite point in the timeline.

**Harry and Peter Sitting In A Tree...  
K. I. S. S. I. N. G.**

"Hey, Harry," Peter was distractedly getting his ass handed to him in a racing video game.

"Wha'ssup?" Harry asked without losing an ounce of concentration on maintaining his lead.

Pete hesitated, and his character drove over a slippery spot that sent the vehicle spiraling out of control. Pete thought this was a little poetic, because that's exactly how he was feeling at the moment.

 _"Have you -_ have you ever... _kissed_ anyone before?" Pete's cheeks flared up with an embarrassed blush as he asked. He was staring hard at the wide screen TV just to avoid glancing at his friend's reaction.  

Harry quietly sealed his victory, waiting until his character crossed the finish line before dropping his controller onto the floor and turning to give Peter a thoughtful look.

"Is this inquiry strictly _scientific_ or does this have more to do with _personal curiosity,_ Pete?"

Peter flushed bright red, "Would you believe me if I said I was taking an impromptu survey?"

 _"Not for a second,"_ he laughed, "but it's kind of an adorable cover story." The naked affection in Harry's voice and that shiny perfect smile were doing things to Peter's hormonal body that he was not prepared for.

"I'm sorry," Pete apologized before he could stop himself from feeling guilty for it. He drew his legs up off the floor so he could sit Indian style and hurriedly shoved a throw pillow over his lap at the same time. _"If it's too personal,_ I mean. I don't want to pry." Pete's vision kept flitting between looking at the little bit of couch between them and sneaking quick glances at his friend's face. Sometimes Peter thought looking at Harry shared some of the same dangers of staring into the sun. There was even a glow-y yellow halo that Peter frequently imagined seeing perched in his friend's fluffy light brown hair. Between both Harry and Mary Jane's angelic dispositions, Pete felt like an unsightly, skinny, little troll totally unworthy but blessed with their friendship.  

 _"Hey,_ don't worry about it," Harry reassured him. "You can feel comfortable asking me any questions you want on the subject. On almost _any_ subject, really. I'm not easily embarrassed."  
  
_"So..._ what's it like? _Kissing?_ I mean, romantically. On the lips. Not little pecks on the cheek or forehead. _Real kisses."_  

Parker was positively brimming with innocent, youthful curiosity. Harry decided that this was  _nothing_ like the sort of leading questions that Eddie used to ask him. If anything, this was Harold's golden opportunity to take advantage of the pretty brunette's naivety. _'No,'_ Harry thought,  _'Just be honest with him. Let the relationship develop naturally.'_  But that didn't mean he couldn't still try to woo this brown eyed beauty with his wealth of knowledge on the subject. He'd just try to avoid being manipulative and skeevy as much as he could. 

 _"Honestly,_ Pete," Harry drew the word out, clearly attempting to build up a theatrical flair in his response, "it really depends on the person. Sometimes mouth kisses are just plain _weird_ and boring. _I mean,_ it's kind of gross when you stop to think about it, right?"

"Right," Pete echoed uncertainly, eager to accept anything his more socially adept peer had to say on the subject.

 _"I mean,_ you're smushing your face up against someone else's and _the logistics_ can be an _absolute nightmare,_ especially when you get really nervous. You gotta try to avoid bumping noses or clicking teeth - _that_ can be painful. _And_ you have to figure out what to do with _your tongues_ and all that excess saliva. Ugh, let's not even talk about bad breath, dry, cracked lips, braces or the possibility of mouth sores. It's definitely _not_ the most _hygienic_ display of affection."

"No, _definitely not,"_ Peter emphatically agreed. "So you're, _uhh_ , saying it's _totally overrated,_ right?" Pete was torn between feeling relieved that he wasn't missing out on anything special and being disappointed because of the big Hollywood lie.

 _"Oh no,_ I didn't say _that,"_ Harry paused to take in the confusedly frustrated expression plastered all over Peter's face. Speaking of kisses, Harry really wanted to lean over just then and demonstrate, but there was still a lot more talking left to do on the subject before they could get into 'discussing' the practical applications. With a wistful look, Harry tried to summon forth his best explanation.

"When you kiss someone that you _really_ care about, someone that you feel safe and comfortable with, then all the scary and awkward parts just... _fade away."_   His blissful expression melted into something a little more devious, something a little bit feral showing in the pearly white of Harry's smile. "You get _really into it_ and _instinct_ starts to take over." 

"But -" Peter interrupted, anxiety bleeding into his tone as he asked, " _What if..._ it... doesn't? What if - _what if my code is broken?_ What if my brain stalls or if my instincts are all wrong?" The seriousness of Peter's fears was disheartening. 

Harry's sympathetic smile was right on cue. "Hey, don't worry about that. It will still get easier with practice. In fact, even the best of us start out a bit sloppy at first." 

Peter groaned and buried his blushing face in his arms, still feeling horribly embarrassed and frustrated by this whole conversation, maybe even regretting that he ever brought up the subject. _"But if I'm not any good at it,_ how will I ever get any better? I mean, what if I'm _so_ _bad_ that no one will ever want to help me practice?" 

Harry shook his head emphatically and reached out to clasp and hold Peter's hands. "Trust me, _pal."_

Peter obediently looked up to lock gazes with Harry and decided that  _he did,_ he trusted Harry completely. Oz would never intentionally lie or deceive him.

Satisfied with having Peter's full attention, Harry continued talking,

"Once you find someone worth the trouble. Someone that likes you for _you. F_ or your wit and _your brilliance_ and Every. Other.  _A_ _mazing_ part of The Parker Package - it won't take much more than a ~ _flutter_  ~ of your _Big Doe Eyes_ to convince them to give you _at least_  a couple tries."

Peter reacted with a stunned look on his face. He was surprised by his own ability to suspend disbelief. Harry had just managed to sound _so damn sincere_ that it was easy to believe - _even if only for a moment_ \- that there really was someone out there. Someone that would eventually like Peter despite all his flaws and crushing insecurities. Someone that would eventually recognize how much Peter Benjamin Parker had to offer. And _that someone_ might someday even be eager to _kiss_ Peter. But even as Peter felt his chest swell with hope and happiness at the thought, the reassurances didn't stop.

 _"And for a quick study like you?"_ Harry winked, "You'll do great. I wouldn't be surprised if eventually you even developed some of your own patented specially advanced techniques."

The suggestion made Peter smile despite himself. Harry always expressed so much confidence in Peter's abilities, believing him to be far more capable than Peter ever dared to even dream about. And damn if Harry Osborn didn't somehow make Peter start to believe it too. In spite of the complete absence of any sort of evidence, Pete couldn't help his gut reaction to trust that Harry's convictions about his future potential had some solid basis in fact. As if Harry Osborn had secret access to a wealth of undeniably true data and an innate ability to make meaningful sense and draw reasonable conclusions about all manner of social issues.

Pete had a similar tendency to trust other seemingly neurotypical people in this way, under the assumption that their intuitive ability to navigate social situations was some sort of super power that operated beyond Peter's own comprehension. But _for some reason_ it always meant the most hearing these things from Harry. Especially when compared to any of the times that Aunt May or Uncle Ben or some other well meaning adult would sell him a line about how ' _special'_ he was or how things would eventually work out for the best.

He wasn't sure how long it had been since Harry stopped talking. Time seemed to stand still while Peter stared in awe of the other boy, who was encouragingly smiling back and patiently waiting for Peter's brain to catch up with processing this conversation. Eventually, Pete ducked his head and bashfully scratched behind his ear, deciding on a suitably light-hearted response. 

" _Yeah right,_ I'm sure to be a top innovator in the widely respected field of smooch-ology," Pete joked. Okay, _that was lame,_ even for him, but Harry's eyes and lips were still smiling at him. 

 _"Definitely,"_ and Harry said it in such a way that it was impossible for Peter to detect even a hint of sarcasm. "You're sure to be _very popular."_  Harry's voice was chock full of pride and steeped in what was either a mock seriousness or playful sincerity - the distinction was too difficult for Peter to accurately ascertain, not that it mattered much either way. _"Very_ well-read," Harry enthusiastically piled the praise on higher and higher. "All the other scientists and engineers will be clamoring to act as peer review. There will be _no end_ to the volunteers eager to participate in your _ongoing research."_

Peter's head flopped over in embarrassment and he half-heartedly reached out in a weak attempt to shove at Harold's arm. "But before _any of that_ can happen, I still need to learn the basics."

Harry raised an eyebrow, as if to say, _'go on.'_ Which caused Peter's brow to pinch together in a thoughtful expression. Twenty seconds of dead silence finally prompted Harry to roll his eyes and wave his hand around impatiently. The only reasonable conclusion Peter could draw from the gesture was to assume that Harry's intention was to communicate that the onus was still on Peter to keep the conversational ball rolling. Hastily, Pete jumped on the most obvious and basic of questions that he could possibly ask.

"Like, _why_ do people even _do it?"_  Harry's blank face made Peter self conscious enough that he had to quickly find some way to elaborate or risk looking like a total dumbass. _"_ I guess, I understand that it's supposed to _feel good._ But _why?_  If the actual mechanics of it are so awkward and gross, then why do so many people think it's sexy?"

Harry transitioned easily back into teacher mode. _"Gross_  is pretty much synonymous with all things sexy, it's just about putting things into an erotic context. But, uhh.  _A_ _hem,"_ Harry cleared his throat. "We can discuss the complexities and perversity of human sexuality more _in depth_ at a later date. _Believe me,_ I don't think _that_ particular can of worms is something _either one of us_ is prepared to talk about quite yet." Harry raised a hand and shook his head to dismiss the questions that he saw forming as the metaphorical gears behind Peter's eyes were set into motion. _"For now,_ let's just stay focused on kissing." 

Reluctantly, Peter dismissed the perverse tangent that he'd just been teased with. Instead, he repeated the question: "So why do people kiss each other?"  

"I can't speak for everyone, but I can definitely tell you what  _I, personally,_ find appealing about sucking face." 

Peter winced at that particular turn of phrase. It was hard to understand at all how something that sounded so  _ick_ could feel so good, but he was already settled into hearing the explanation anyhow. 

"When you're with that 'special someone'- _or,_ you know, _whatever warm-blooded and agreeable homosapien you're currently down to mack on._ Ahem." Harry lightly shook his head to dismiss that tangent and Peter rolled his eyes while Harry got back to what he was trying to say.

"When they press their lips against yours, _or vice versa,_ you become _overwhelmed_ with _a -_ a sense of **passion** and _urgency_. Or sometimes it's more of a gentle, _warm_ feeling that encapsulates your whole body just from this small gesture of love and affection."

Peter could definitely feel a heat gathering, especially in his nether region and he itched to adjust himself. He was entranced by the faraway look in Harry's eyes and it made him curious about what it might be like to kiss someone like Harry.  _Not because he wanted to kiss Harry._ He just thought, _well,_ no, _nevermind,_ he wasn't exactly sure what he was thinking right now, so he dismissed the idea and tried to just stay focused on the rest of Harry's explanation.

"It's all - _it's all about proximity."_  Harry subtly began inching closer to Peter. "You want to hold them as close as you possibly can, and short of getting genitals involved, this is the closest you can come."

Peter belatedly realized that the whole time Harry had been talking, he'd also been edging forward in _itsy bitsy_ tiny increments until Harry had damn near worked his way into Peter's lap.

"If you want, _I could..._ I could _demonstrate_ for you."

 _"No,"_ Pete was increasingly aware of the surge in his blood flow heading south. "No, _that's not necessary."_ Peter didn't want to make this weird and he _definitely_ didn't want to be a burden on his best friend. 

"I wouldn't mind if you did," Harry wasn't about to rescind the offer. In fact, Harry didn't seem at all put off by this, so _maybe it would be okay._ Just to try it.  _Once._ Just so he'd know what it felt like. "I could always use the practice, and I always feel safe when I'm with you."

"Well, um, in - _in that case,_ yeah, I-I'd appreciate it." Eurgh, _'Smooth, Parker.'_ Pete bashfully ducked his head to hide his embarrassment.

"Alright," Harry hopped to his feet, "let's start in the kitchen."

"Wait _-_ _what?_ What's in the kitchen?" Peter looked wildly confused and was reluctant to get up and abandon the throw pillow currently shielding his erection.

"Food," Harry spun around to flash Peter a big grin and urge him to follow along. "Fresh fruit, specifically. Come on, you'll thank me for this, I promise."

"Okay, but what's fruit got to do with kissing?" Peter whined as he dropped the pillow and shuffled along behind his friend. 

...

They experimented with various fruits. Taking a chunk out to simulate the cavernous shape of a mouth. Harry did his best to demonstrate before encouraging Peter to get comfortable testing out different amounts of suction and playing with the length and the amount of pressure he might use when getting his tongue involved. 

Twice the experiment devolved into laughter as they couldn't resist the urge to get carried away in exaggerating what an exceedingly poor and/or enthusiastic attempt might look like. Peter wiped away an embarrassing amount of slobber onto his sleeve and Harry poked at his shoulder. "Ready to try the real thing?" 

"I - _um,"_ Peter nervously eyed Harry's shiny lips. For a moment he imagined that he could already taste the juice lingering on them, but then he remembered that  _duh_ of course he could, he had just made out with the same type of fruit. Peter licked his lips and started to lean closer. "Yeah. _I think_ , I'm ready."

Harry took a step forward that brought them almost nose to nose. They could feel each other's breath on their faces. Harry tilted his head slightly to the side and then his lips brushed against Peter's. There was a long moment that may have only really spanned the length of a couple seconds while they just pressed their lips against each other. Just as they were starting to feel brave, they heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening, shoes scuffing as they were pulled off and cloth rustling as a coat was stowed away in the entry closet. 

"Harry?" A voice called out. 

 _'Shit, shit,' - "Shit,"_ Harry cursed and hastily pulled away. Peter was so stunned that he almost fell over with surprise. "Dad?" Harry raised his voice so Norman would be able to hear as he stepped back and took up a very forced casual pose leaning against the counter. His heart was racing in his chest and he wiped his palms on his pant legs quickly before crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Is Peter still here?" Norman asked, his voice sounding much closer than before as he stepped into the room. His eyes immediately fell on the shy kid who offered a meek wave in response to being found.  _"Ah,_ Peter, _there you are_. I was hoping I'd catch you before it got too late." 

Parker wore a strained looking smile on his face, eyes darting between father and son for a second before he settled his gaze on Norman's shoulder. There was no way he could stand to look the intimidating older man in the eye, not after what Norman almost just caught them doing.   _"Y-yeah?_ Why's that, Mr. O?" Peter's eyes darted over to check Harry's reaction, who seemed way too calm. _'How is he not freaking out right now?'_ Peter subconsciously raised a hand to touch his own lips, thought better of it at the last second and moved to scratch under his ear instead. 

Norman's eyes narrowed as he noted the suspicious behavior of both boys. Harry was watching Peter's every move, wincing slightly while otherwise pretending to be unaffected. Parker looked like he was one harsh word away from a panic attack. They were obviously hiding something. The half eaten fruit laying on the counter just added more to the mystery. 

 "I... had my secretary track down those papers you asked about." 

"Which, um, papers were those, again?" Peter was too flustered to remember what Mr. Osborn was referring to.

"During our Thanksgiving Dinner, we were discussing bionics and you had some very specific inquiries."

"Oh. _Oh,_ yeah!" Peter exclaimed as he recalled the details. "You mentioned that Tony Stark had created a huge demand for more advancement in the field when he unveiled his Iron Man armor to the world." 

"And you expressed curiosity in the work that would go into designing what you referred to as a _high-tech prosthesis."_

"Those were Tony's words, _from the Senate hearing._ Remember?"

"That was, like, two years ago," Harry butt in, hoping to put a damper on Peter's enthusiastic fanboying. 

 _"Yeah,_ and CSPAN has never been so entertaining before or since. It was _epic."_

"Well, if there is _one thing_  that Tony Stark excels at, it's putting on a show." Norman was definitely not sulking as he said this. "And of course he wouldn't be a _Stark_ if he wasn't also good at stirring up controversy and causing a spike in weapon sales."

"I think we're about to veer off topic here, Dad," Harry tried to warn his father away from instigating an argument over whether or not the existence of Iron Man was a force for good or a looming threat to global security. Most of his concerns, as far as Harry was aware, all eventually circled back to how Norman described Tony's personal character. Stark was immoral, unstable, narcissistic, a barely functional alcoholic and a party slut. Or at least, that's what Harry had been told or overheard at various points over the years.

(Harry had more than once found doodles of devil horns, curly mustaches and penises on Stark's pictures in magazines or newspapers that were left lying about, frequently near Norman's preferred sitting areas. Since he knew _he_ wasn't the one who did that, and he seriously doubted the help would do such a thing, that left only one other suspect.)

Norman rolled his eyes, and everything about his posture was so  _Dad_ just then that Harry couldn't help but smile. He didn't get to see this side of his father very often, not for a very long time anyway, and it was both funny and sweet that Norman actually seemed to care about whether or not Peter liked him. Harry couldn't remember Norman ever going this far out of his own way to make nice with any of Harry's other friends. 

 "So we'll save that conversation for another time. Have you boys eaten dinner already?" Norman made a small gesture to the half eaten fruit on the counter and intentionally reminded them both of their previous activities. The flush that spread all the way to the tips of Peter's ears was most telling. Norman felt safe in venturing a guess as to what he'd just interrupted. 

A little too quickly, Harry was the one to respond, "No, that was just a snack. We haven't eaten a proper meal yet. Not since lunch, anyway. Although, come to think of it, the cafeteria food at Midtown hardly qualifies."

Peter barely repressed a small snort of laughter at that. But then he looked up at Mr. Osborn and shook his head. "It's okay, I'm not really all that hungry. You don't have to feed me _every_ time I come over."

"It's no trouble, Peter." Norman's reassurance was gentle but firm. "Besides, it's only fair, since your aunt is always foisting her baked goods on Harry."

"Only because she enjoys all the praise that earns her. She's always fishing for compliments."

"One of these days, I should just ask for the recipe," Harry spoke up. "Gives me an excuse to spend more time in the kitchen."

"And _less_ time studying?" Norman's comment may have come across as a little more pointed than intended. Harry ducked his head in shame and gave a weak, half-hearted shrug.

 "Well," Norman tried to recover by manuevering back into a friendly tone of voice. "Personally, I think I'm in the mood for pizza," _that was the go-to food option for pandering to teenagers, yes?_ "If either of you boys would like to join me, speak now or fend for yourselves."

"Were you in the mood to go out or order in?" Harry asked.

Norman considered this with a far more thoughtful looking expression than the question probably merited. _It is Friday. Hmm._ On the one hand, it would be nice to spend some quality time with Harry, especially since his son's mood was usually so much improved when Peter was around. But he still had some pet projects that were calling out for his attention and a nagging little whisper in his head was scolding him for being so easily distracted. "I'll leave that up to you."

"Could we order in?" Peter drew both of the Osborns' attention. "Maybe set up in the family room and watch a movie together, if that would be alright?"

 "Sounds good to me," Harry agreed, "and you could call your aunt and uncle, ask if it'd be okay if you spent the night, if you want. Turn this into a sleepover."

Peter turned to Norman for approval. 

"Fine by me, as long as you don't stay up too late. Harry's going to need to be up before noon. You're still planning on attending your extra lessons with Felicia?"

"Yeah, she and I are still on for tomorrow. Said she'll be ready for me around 11 O'Clock. Peter and I will have no trouble crawling out of bed before then. Will we, Pete?"

"No, sir. No trouble at all."

"Alright, I'm taking you both at your word this time."

"Cool," Peter said and dug around in his pocket in search of his flip phone. "I'll go call my aunt and uncle right now. Harry, knows what I like on my pizza."

...

Just over an hour later, both boys were stretched out on the couches and the tv was streaming the latest sci-fi flick. Peter was generously  _not_ picking the whole thing apart for once, too distracted by thoughts of his earlier kiss with Harry and how embarrassing it would have been if Norman hadn't announced himself. To think, in the moment he'd actually been tempted to deepen the kiss and put that fruit licking practice to the test. How devastating would it have been if Norman had walked in on _that?_

Luckily, the man in question hadn't stuck around for the full length of the feature film. Just two slices into his thin crust pizza, he'd gotten sick of watching Harry 'discretely' mock him for his use of cutlery and honestly, he'd probably just been looking for an excuse to duck into his home office. Norman Osborn was a workaholic, that much was obvious even to Peter's poor social awareness. 

What wasn't nearly as obvious was the fact that Harry wasn't really paying much attention to the movie either. That is, until the other boy spoke up.

 _"Hey,_ Peter?" Harry kept his voice low. 

"Huh?"

"This movie's kinda lame. Wanna tuck in for the night? My bed is plenty big enough to share, if you want. We could lay awake and talk for a while."

"Talk," Peter didn't know why, but for some reason he thought Harry meant to suggest someting else entirely. 

"Yeah, talk _or whatever."_ Harry shrugged as if this was no big deal, and why would it be? Friends can share a bed and talk and even kiss and those are all completely normal and not weird things to do. 

"Sure," Pete agreed. Harry switched off the tv and they both made an effort to tidy up the little home theater before Peter followed his friend into the bedroom's en-suite. Pete still couldn't quite get over his envy that Harry had a private bathroom all to himself. That kind of luxury would've saved Peter a whole lot of awkward, not to mention tissues and dirty socks if he didn't have to sneak down the hall to wash up everytime he - _he, uhh..._

 _'Ugh, not a great time to be thinking about that,'_ Peter thought as Harry suddenly knelt down and would've been on eye level with Peter's peter if he wasn't facing the wrong direction. 

"Let me grab you a toothbrush, I always keep a couple spares." Harry had ducked down to rifle through one of the vanity's bottom drawers. "Anything else you might need?" Harry asked as he straightened up and handed over the unopened package of Oral-B. Peter accepted it with a small shrug. The poor boy was sort of glancing around looking for something, but apparently not wanting to ask. "Floss and paste is in the top drawer," Harry did his utmost best to divine the answer to his own question. "I think I've got a couple different flavors, variety, choices, you know. And some cups in the cupboard here. No need to stick your head into the sink to rinse."

"Okay, I think I'm all set, Hare."

"Cool," Harry fidgeted by the door. Peter gave him a questioning glance, brows furrowed while he bit his bottom lip. "Right," Harry said, "I'll just go. Change into my jammies, give you some privacy and then we'll swap and cuddle into bed when we're both ready."

"Sounds good," Peter was relieved. It still felt weird doing his private routines around other people. It certainly didn't help that his mind kept trying to fixate on a very specific and _very private_ routine that he'd developed over the last year. "Thanks, Harry."

"No problem." Harry ducked out of the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. 

Peter slowly collapsed onto the floor with a muted groan, sitting on his butt with his knees curled up to his chest and his head in his hands. _'What was I thinking? Spending the night after what happened earlier. I'm not going to get any sleep. I'll be up all night, probably twitching with anxiety and keeping Harry awake, too. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.'_

Which sucked even more, because The Osborns had already been so kind to him, Harry was so accomodating, and now _this._ Even supposing that Peter did somehow manage to fall asleep, it was all but guaranteed that he'd have one of those - _those_   _moist_ _dreams_ again. His little night time problem was embarrassing enough when he was alone!  _'I shouldn't have agreed to share the bed. I should just wash up and then tell him that I changed my mind.'_

Then again, the prospect of sleeping on one of the couches or in a guest room was even worse. As much as Peter wanted to avoid bothering Harry, he really didn't want to be alone. His sense of shame wouldn't be enough to stop the temptation to self-stimulate, it was both the cheapest and single most effective sleep aid that Peter had access to. It usually did wonders to relieve stress too; that is, in circumances where it _itself_ was not the biggest stressor. Ugh, he couldn't even begin to imagine the horror of what might happen if he was caught.

 _'That settles it.'_ Peter pulled himself back onto his feet and nodded at his own reflection in the mirror. _'You're just going to have to_ _suck it up and sleep with your best friend. Even if you have to lay awake all night and concentrate on staying stock still while thinking about ugly chainsmoking grandmas with wrinkly tramp stamps. You are going to climb into that bed next to Harry.'_ He tried to ignore the thrill that thought - _the thought of sleeping with Harry_ \- sent through his body and focused on tearing open the package to retrieve his brand new toothbrush.

 _'Harry's the same age as me. He's probably going through a lot of the same things. He'll understand if anything happens. It's totally normal and beyond our control as teenagers. If all else fails, you can apologize profusely, drop out of school and venture into the sewers to live with the fabled Morlocks.'_ With a new determination to go through with this and keep things as not-weird as possible, Pete set about the boring business of getting ready for bed. 

"You almost done in there?" Harry asked about five minutes later. 

"Y-yeah, door's unlocked, you can come in."

The door opened a crack and Harry tentatively stuck his head in. "I put an extra set of PJs on the bed, if you want to borrow them. Or not, it's cool - _err,_ fine, _it's fine_ if you just want to sleep in your underwear. I don't mind. It's up to you. But, um, can I have the room now? I _really_ need to pee."

"Oh! Yeah, sure," they did an awkward dance around each other as one entered and the other vacated the small space. "It's all yours."

"Thanks," Harry disappeared from view behind the closed door. 

"Hmm," Peter hummed and mumbled to himself as he investigated the ultra-soft and cozy shirt and pants that Harry had left out for him. The boys were almost the same size, so there was no question about whether or not they would fit. He rubbed a piece of the fabric between his fingers, marveling at how nice the texture felt. He would definitely be borrowing these, and Harry would be lucky if he ever got them back. Actually, knowing Harry Osborn, he probably wouldn't even care if Peter kept them. 

 _'No,'_ he thought to himself as he tugged off his clothes and replaced them with Harry's, _'Stealing is bad, and taking advantage of the Osborn's generosity isn't okay either.' Mmm,_ but petty theft had never been so tempting before. The pajamas fit _perfectly_ and for a moment Peter Parker just reveled in the sensory bliss. The fact that they belonged to Harry somehow made it seem as though they warmed up even faster and if he focused he could smell the same clean, sweet fragrance that usually followed Harry around. Peter was in heaven. 

Then Peter slid his butt onto the bed and allowed his eyes and hands to begin roaming over what he assumed were _a billion_ thread count sheets and the fluffiest damn pillows that he would ever have the privelege to use.He flopped head first into the safety and comfort of the high end memory foam and rolled around to test the feel of it from a multitude of positons. Each one felt like he was floating, flying, soaring in the sky on a magically tangible cloud just like in cartoons. It was a fitting image in his head, for his angelic friend to spend his nights sleeping up in the clouds.

 _'_ _Awkward boners and nocturnal emissions be damned. Can't I just stay here forever?'_ His earlier concerns drifted back to him. They somehow didn't seem as important as before. _Hell,_  at least Norman and Harry were both guys, so they'd be more understanding about that kind of thing than Aunt May and they wouldn't tease him relentlessly over every embarrassing moment like Uncle Ben.

Peter had only known the Osborns for a couple months now, but he already felt more welcome and wanted here than he could remember ever feeling before. They, both father and son, were always delighted to see him and they never treated him like a burden.

Not that Ben or May ever _intentionally_ put that kind of pressure on him, but he couldn't ignore the financial pressure they were under to keep his childhood home in the city, when it would've been so much cheaper if they'd have moved in with some of Aunt May's family like they'd originally planned to do after college. Ben had _more than once_ joked that Peter was the reason he was prematurely going gray. 

 _'Would it be inappropriate to ask Mr. Osborn to adopt me after kissing Harry?'_ Whoops, now _that_ was a strange thought. 

The toilet flushed in the attached bathroom, and Peter's attention strayed back to the boy he would be sleeping with. Harry. Harry Osborn. _'Who would ever think that the prickly new rich kid in school would ever be so nice? And to me, of all people!'_ Peter hadn't felt so lucky in a very long time. It made sense why Harry would warm up to Mary Jane, everyone loved MJ, she was the prettiest girl in the whole world. But everyone was surprised to see Harry gravitating toward Peter, and no one was more surprised by that development than Peter himself. 

People probably assumed that Peter was doing Harry's homework for him, but he definitely wasn't. Harry barely even needed any help, aside from the motivation to get started and stay focused. It didn't take very long to get Harry back on track with the rest of the class, and then their shared study sessions started to feel more and more like an excuse for them to hangout together. It was an especially convenient arrangememt because it gave them a lot to talk about, in a semi-structured format that made conversation so much easier for Peter. Sometimes Peter sincerely believed that the only reason Harry asked him so many questions was so Peter could infodump and feel useful. But - but the whole point he'd been trying to reach was this: Harry didn't _need_ Peter, and he definitely didn't take advantage of him to do all the work. It was so _unfair_ for people to keep thinking that their friendship was so shallow.

 _'Or maybe...'_ Peter thought,  _'Maybe I'm just_ _desperate_ _to think that there's more to it than that.'_ Was it selfish for him to hope for more? Was it completely unreasonable to expect anyone to like Peter for _who he is_ rather than just what his stupid smart brain could be tricked into doing for them? Peter curled up in a ball and pondered these questions while he waited for Harry to join him. 

The bathroom door swung open and Harry leaned against the doorway. "Should I leave a night light on in here? Just in case you wake up and need the loo, _or..._ I don't really mind if you need it for any other reason."

"No, _thanks, Harry_. I'm fine. The dark doesn't bother me."

"Um, _I'm just saying,_ as a precaution. In case you wake up and forget where you are. It's cool. I don't mind, and no judgement if you just happened to  _prefer_ sleeping with a light on."

"Harry," Peter fixed his friend with a curious look, "do  _you_ prefer sleeping with a light on?"

Harry looked away, embarrassed, "um, yeah." The pinched look on Harry's face looked so painful that Peter winced in sympathy. The expression didn't go unnoticed by Harry who could0 still to see it through the corner of his eye. Osborn's posture abruptly changed into a haughty tough guy facade in an attempt to brush this off. "Just sometimes _. I don't need it._ It's not like I'm scared or anything."

"I don't mind," Peter cut him off before he could further embarass himself with dragging this out. "You can leave it on. Actually, you made a really good point earlier, about finding the bathroom. I wouldn't want to get lost and accidentally pee in your closet." 

 


	7. Harry's PoV post-Spider Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Status: Unfinished Draft  
> Last Updated: 5/25/17
> 
> Harry notices that something is different about Peter.
> 
> Wobbly wobbly spot in the timeline, but this is definitely after Peter is bitten and before Uncle Ben's death. Peter is secretly experimenting with his spider powers. The people around must notice that Peter is acting strangely, but they all have their own ideas about what's really going on - and who would ever suspect that Pete just got super powers? No one. 
> 
> Trigger Warning for a very insecure Harry and dickish Peter lying to his best friend.

Harry was fifteen years old.

Peter was being a dick lately.  Ever since the stupid field trip, Pete had been acting funny. Parker ditched his glasses, for one. And... Well, okay, aside from that it was difficult to pinpoint what exactly was so different about him, but something just felt _off._

Peter came over to help him study, as usual, but he didn't stick around for games or hanging out after all the work was done. As soon as they finished lately or even just as soon as Harry appeared to have figured out all the tricky parts, Pete would gather up his things and insist he had chores or errands to do for his Aunt May. 

 _And what the hell was up with that?_ Did Pete forget that he and May actually talk to each other? That it would literally take only one phone call or an offhand comment the next time Harry and May hung out to expose the lie. But then Harry never could quite bring himself to make that call and he always wound up avoiding the topic when he had the chance to finally call Peter on his bullshit. Because here's the rub, _what if it was a lie?_ The _only_ reason Peter Parker would ever lie to his best friend - hell, _to anyone -_ was to try and spare their feelings. (Or to make a really awful joke, but that's obviously not the case here.)

Harry knew that Ben disapproved of - _of whatever it was_ he and Pete did in private together. Ben had never said as much directly to his face, but it was always clearly written all over Ben Parker's face whenever Harry hung around the Parker residence. Especially whenever Harry and Peter sat too close to one another. Ben even made it a habit to barge in and check up on them and he'd purposely leave the bedroom door open. But why would  _Aunt May_ try to interfere? 

Harry offered to lend Pete his chaffeur, but Parker insisted that he'd rather get around on his own. "Thanks, but no thanks, Hare. I'd rather stretch my legs."

"Okay," Harry agreed. "Sure, _but hey -"_ he reached out to grab Peter's arm before he even understood why he felt so reluctant to let him go. _"Just..._ Be careful out there."

There was a flicker of something suspiciously like fear or recognition or worry in his eyes before Peter's lips twisted up into a reassuring grin. "Always am," Pete said, "you know me, Careful Cautious Pete. I look both ways before I cross the street and never accept candy from any strangers." He gave an uncaring little shrug that discretely tried and failed to tug his arm free of Harry's hand. "Barring the possibility of any impromptu alien invasions, I think I'll be alright on my own."

Harry's fingertips were still curled around Peter's forearm, his grip surreptitiously tightened when Peter casually referenced The Incident. Parker gave Harry's hand a light pat both to reassure his friend that everything would be okay and to remind him that he would have to let go eventually.

"I'm serious, Pete," and Harry's tone was unusually grave. Parker flinched and Osborn immediately regretted being so stern just then. Harry Osborn's hand fell away and he unconsciously raised it to hold the back of his own neck while his chin dipped forward in a way that was probably meant to be apologetic. _"I just_ \- I worry about you embarking out on your own all of a sudden."

 _'What's gotten into you?'_ Harry was afraid to ask. _The old Pete_ would've always preferred to have someone holding his hand. Venturing out in public alone always made Peter jumpy and anxious, he'd only done it before when it was absolutely necessary.

"Some things -" Peter abruptly paused, gathered his courage, and when he resumed speaking it was with a sense of purpose behind his words. _"I just -_ I need to do some things on my own."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He thought it sounded weird and cryptic. "I understand," Harry lied. He didn't understand what Peter was talking about, it just didn't feel right to ask anymore than he already had. "I mean, _I get that._ You wanna be your own man." Because that had to be what Peter was getting at. 

"Yeah, exactly," Peter confirmed.

"Just make sure you have your phone on you. And charged! _And for gosh sake,_ watch your step, Peter Parker! Don't fall down any manholes or get lost. And don't hesitate to call if you need help."

 _"You know,_ I actually got along pretty well before I met you. I think I can manage." Peter didn't mean anything by it, except to express his frustration at being mothered by his best friend. Peter had no idea that the statement would be received like a potshot to the solar plexus. Harry's face crumbled into a blank mask for a moment before he snorted and put on the airs of his snottiest, brattiest self.

"Yeah, whatever, loser." Harry muttered.

Peter frowned, finished gathering his things, swung his bag over his shoulder and avoided looking at Harry as he started towards the door. "Catch ya later, Oz," he threw over his shoulder. 

"No, _hey, wait!"_ Harry called after him and rushed forward. Peter turned around and Harry stopped just shy of bowling him over. _"I - uhh,"_ shit this was stupid. "Wanna hug? Before you leave? I didn't mean to upset you."

Peter sighed with relief before giving a silent nod and raising his hands to pull Harry into a hug. With his friend securely held in his arms, Peter said, "I'm not upset, Harry."

Harold just squeezed him tighter in response.

"I'm not," Peter repeated although he somehow managed to sound even less convincing this time. 

"And you're definitely not lying to me," the words were muffled by Peter's shoulder. Harry hoped that sounded more jokey than serious, calling his friend out for pretending to be unaffected rather than betraying how paranoid Harry was that there was a more bold faced lie in Peter's excuse to ditch him. 

"Just now?" Peter's breath hitched with a truly very miniscule and probably unnoticeable amount of panic. He hesitated and then rushed to exclaim, "No-yes-maybe. _Okay,_ I'm _a little_ upset, but it has absolutely nothing to do with you."

"You're _sure_ about that?"

"Yes."

"Pete, if someone is picking on you again, just tell me who _and I'll -"_

"I _do not_ need you to punch anyone for me, Harry."

"Yeah, well. I'm always ready." 

"And I appreciate that, but _um..."_ Peter wiggled his arms in an awkward attempt to disentangle himself from Harry's hold. "This is starting to get -" 

"Weird, yeah," Harry sheepishly pulled away. "Sorry, I guess I should really let you go. Don't wanna keep May waiting." 

There was a pregnant little pause while Peter looked confused. Why was Harry mentioning his aunt? "Oh," Pete remembered his excuse for bailing on his friend. _"Yeahh..._ can't keep Aunt May waiting. I should be going. _I'll see you tomorrow?"_

"Tomorrow. Bright and early." 

"Cool." Pete said, then he repeated it three more times for good measure. _"Cool, cool, cool._  Here I go, to go do the thing. The thing for Aunt May." _Ugh._ Did he really just say that last part out loud? "Bye Harry!" He rushed over and into the elevator without looking back.

After the doors slid closed and there was no chance of Harry following him, Pete turned to face the wall and lightly bang his head against it. _'Seriously? If I'm going to get serious about this secret identity thing, I'm going to have to come up with some way better excuses. Oh, and add lying to the list of talents I'm going to need to develop.'_ Not for the first time, he wondered if maybe he shouldn't be keeping this secret from Harry. 

Afterall, Harry is _the_ best friend that he's ever had and a Big Lie like _this_ or the _thousands upon thousands_ of little ones that will be required to keep this secret could ruin that. _'Doesn't Harry already have enough trust issues?'_ But Peter has a, _uhh - a responsibility,_ yeah. A responsibility to stay focused on the Greater Good. Pete was planning to become a superhero, like Tony Stark - Iron Man and The Avengers! So surely an honorable goal like that ought to come with some kind of karmic boost that would make up for the massive web of un-truths he'd be living in. 

_'Keeping Harry in the dark is better for everyone. Besides, if I told him, he'd insist on coming along to try and protect me. And I can't be encouraging the son of a billionaire to come play sidekick - he'd get himself killed or kidnapped and I couldn't help anyone if I spent all my time worrying about him.'_

Peter definitely didn't have any selfish reasons for not telling Harry. This decision was all about being smart, practical and staying responsible. Yeah, he should definitely make a special note of that word. Maybe turn that into a catchphrase or codename.  _Captain Practical,_ the most sensible super of all. Ironically, probably also the most unrealistic hero imaginable _. Or the most boring._


	8. Lego Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this after watching The Lego Movie with my brothers for the first time. 
> 
> This may or may not have actually ever happened. I was just having fun with the Squad. Spoiler for The Lego Movie, so go watch it if you haven't already seen it. Actually, go watch it again anyway, it's a feel good film. Wee~!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Lego Movie was released February 7th, 2014 (the tail end of the Squad's Freshman Year of High School. Which means the following scene would have to occur at some point after the release, but since they are not seeing it in theaters... it could really be anytime after.

"That was... kind of awesome," Peter said.

 _"Everything is awesome,"_ Harry began singing with a cheeky grin. Peter was half tempted to join in with the next lyric, but he refrained. If it were just the two of them, he'd have had no problem making a fool of himself with Harry. Still, Pete couldn't help but bounce in his seat to the rhythm of the imagined beat. _"Everything is cool_ when you're part of a -" _thwap,_ a pillow to the face cut Harry off mid-verse.

 _"Ugh,_ you guys are such dorks!" MJ's voice was filled with pretend exasperation, but she was obviously pleased with herself for hitting her target dead on. Pillow fights with Miss Watson were no laughing matter, the reigning Dodgeball Champion of Midtown would beat you senseless given half the chance.

"Oh my _G - O - S - H,_ now what?" Gwen asked.

 _"Well..."_ Harry drew out the word, as if he had to even think about the question. His smile was contagious as he suggested, "Now that we've seen the movie, we _could_ play the casting game."

"Dibs on Batman!" Gwen loudly, enthusiastically exclaimed to everyone else's chagrin, beating them all to the punch. She was rewarded with groans all around. Ms Stacy laid back to luxuriate on the couch, smug with victory.

"Yeah, well, he didn't get the girl in the end anyhow," Harry was the first to shrug it off after a half assed effort to mock being upset by this. He hadn't necessarily wanted to stake a claim on Batman, except he knew that was his dad's all-time favorite _fictional_ superhero. Sometimes he still had to stop and _marvel_ at the fact that 'fictional' was actually a necessary distinction when talking about superheroes nowadays. _'Seriously. What next? Vampires?'_ Harry shook his head. "Clearly, WyldStyle was the coolest."

"Can we all agree that President Business is Harry's Dad?" Peter decided to contribute to this conversation.

"Octan Corporation might as well be OsCorp," Mary Jane agreed.

Harry frowned. He didn't particularly like the idea of his father being the bad guy, but - _to be fair -_ in this instance, the bad guy was redeemed in the end.

"Okay, but if Norman is Lord Business, then Pete's Uncle Ben is Vitruvius," Gwen supplied.

"You mean, Morgan Freeman. Ben is _basically_ white guy Morgan Freeman, Voice of God," MJ's voice was deadpan serious.

 _"Yeahh,_ I can see that," Harry nodded along, pretending to take this just as fake seriously as Mary Jane.

"Um, _guys,"_ Peter piped up, "please don't compare my uncle to the character that _gets decapitated."_

"Oh, sorry," Gwen winced in sympathy, but a faint shimmer of mischief in her eyes undercut the sincerity of her apology.

"But in Gwen's defense," Harry said, "Your Uncle Ben is definitely the type of guy that would quote cat posters, pretending that a stupid catchphrase is some sage piece of wisdom."

"Hm," Pete relented with a defeated sigh, "It's true, very true." He did often roll his eyes at the godawful after school special crap that Ben passed off as advice.

"And besides," Gwen said, "they're Lego's, so it's not as if he _really_ died."

"So all's forgiven?" MJ asked.

"Yeah, but seriously," Pete pouted. "You guys _always_ do that." 

MJ, Harry and Gwen all exchanged some lingering glances while Pete sulked.

"Well, hey," Harry spoke up, "at least Ben's being compared to the fallen hero or inspirational death types. My dad's always the villain."

"But that's only because Norman Osborn is such an imposing figure," Gwen stated.

"He's really very intimidating," MJ agreed.

"Yeah, but not always!" Harry protested. "You guys just don't ever really get to see his softer side."

"Oh, he has a softer side?" Gwen tried to sound hopeful, but her overriding skepticism was plainly obvious.

"Yeah. He does. _Sort of._ Sometimes," Harry struggled to think of an example off the top of his head, something that Norman wouldn't mind if Harry shared with his friends. Dad was very _protective_ of the image he cultivated for the public. Harry didn't want to jeopardize that by starting rumors, but wouldn't it be even more damaging to Norman's reputation if all of Harry's close friends continue to compare him to cruel and distant villains?


	9. The Making of Spider-Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Status: Unfinished Draft. I'm toying with the idea of including Deadpool in Spider-Man's revamped Origin Story, so tell me what you think, please! 
> 
> Summary:
> 
> Peter developing the conceptual design for his webshooters and realizing that he's going to need to get a job to finance his adventures in heroism. 
> 
> An ad in the paper leads him to the possibility of becoming a wrestler. Unfortunately, the venue refuses him admittance into the competition, because the liability is too high and Peter isn't old enough to sign the waiver without a parent or guardian signing off as well (although, the lady says they wouldn't accept that anyway, because they'd still probably get dragged into court when the parent would inevitable be charged with reckless child endangerment or something). 
> 
> As Peter is leaving the venue, he is approached by someone and invited to an underground fighting ring.

Context: Since waking up with super human abilities after the field trip, Peter has decided to make a concerted effort to develop the skills and tech that he thinks will eventually earn him a place on The Avengers and impress Tony Stark. He has donned his Iron Man hoodie and attempted to stop petty crime on multiple occasions while practicing with his abilities (but he has not yet developed webshooters). He's still trying to figure out what kind of crime fighting style is going to work for him, because being a vigilante is not as easy as it looks. 

...

 _'Okay, **realistically** , I can't just punch people in the face.'_ Doing a little bit of research on the subject has led Peter to conclude that head injuries can be very dangerous and he should not rely on a strong right hook to incapacitate people. That still leaves the problem of finding some way to restrain bad guys until law enforcement can arrive on the scene.

To this end, Peter was struck with an epiphany, - while he was lying back on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. He watched a spider hang from a web. _'It's too bad,'_ he thought, _'I don't have that ability. But.... if I did, what would that even look like?'_ It didn't take Peter long to figure out that spinning webs out of his butt wouldn't make any tactical sense. Something mounted somewhere within easy reach of his hands would be ideal. Some sort of easily accessible net or rope - some way to set a trap to catch the bad guys. If he could quickly set up a trap along the most likely path that the bad guy would take to try an escape, he could quite literally catch them in his web.

This thought reminded him of how he and his father used to create a bunch of decorative webs for Halloween. They used Daddy's glue formula to craft them and Richard Parker had more than once used them to set traps and frighten or annoy Ben and Mary. Aunt May never got caught in any of them. But that detail isn't important at all.

Peter dug into his old projects, searching for the formula. He likes this idea, and Richard's adhesive formula was ideal for the purpose of catching criminals. Peter remembered how Richard had explained that it was completely body safe, that it formed an incredibly strong but temporary bond. Richard used it in some way, shape or form for all of his Halloween costumes - to securely attach masks and prosthetics. He had developed a special body safe solvent that would quickly dissolve the attachment if that became necessary.

Yes. Peter decided that this would be perfect. He just needed a quick means to spin the adhesive into the desired shape. Feeling inspired by the spiders, Peter did some extensive research into the function of spinnerets and how he might be able to quickly mimic the process or create something to the same effect.

However, Peter quickly realized that there were only so many materials that he could steal out of dumpsters. If he was going to perfect his designs with usable prototypes then he would need money to acquire better equipment. He couldn't ask Uncle Ben or Aunt May to finance this endeavor, even if they had the money, because they would ask too many questions. They certainly wouldn't take well to the idea of Peter pursuing his super heroic dreams.

The thought of going to his best friend occurred to him at some point, but he definitely couldn't ask Harry Osborn for cash. Not because Harry would say no. Actually, Peter had a strong suspicion that Osborn would be happy for the opportunity to support Peter's scientific ambitions, but... Pete got a weird feeling around Harry's dad whenever he thought about broaching the topic. He just... he decided that it definitely wasn't a good idea and he should really just avoid getting Harry involved. 

So Peter finally reached the dreaded conclusion that he would need to get a job. But the time consuming, menial, minimum wage work available to high schoolers was out of the question, even if his social skills didn't make the whole hiring process absolute hell. He needed something that wouldn't be too time consuming. Something that he could make a lot of money doing and fast.

> **_NEED CASH?_**  
>  AMATEUR  
>  WRESTLERS  
>  _**$3000!**_  
>  for _3 MINUTES_ IN THE RING!  
>  **COLORFUL CHARACTERS A MUST**  
>  212-555-0162

It was an ad in the paper that gave him the idea to try wrestling. That seemed like the perfect opportunity not only for the paycheck, but to acquire experience. He would be able to test and develop his abilities while getting paid! But when he went to the event, they wouldn't let him in. The lady asked for his identification.

"I don't have any. Besides, you haven't carded anyone else."

 "Honey, all wrestlers need to sign a waiver. Which means you have to be eighteen or older to participate. Even if you had permission from your parent or legal guardian, which you obviously don't, we still reserve the right to refuse anyone whom we think is just recklessly endangering themselves. Sorry, short stuff. But you need to go home."

Her concerns were understandable. Anyone looking at him would think the same thing that she had. He was only 5'4" and even with his new muscle tone he still managed to look rail thin and fragile.

So this was a total bust.

But then as he was walking towards the exit, someone caught up with him.

"Hey kid," they said, "I couldn't help but overhear."

"Huh? Yeah," Peter acknowledged him. "I should've known better, I guess."

"You still want to fight?"

"But she said -"

"Not here. I know of another place. The rules are a little - _a lot_ \- less strict, and you can make just as much - _hell,_ you can make **more** **bank** _if_ you play your cards right. You in?"

"I don't know, maybe," Peter was definitely interested, but he wasn't so stupid that he would disregard the necessity of doing his due diligence before following a stranger to some remote, mysterious and probably dangerous locale. "I'd like to know more."

"I can take you there."

"Any chance you can give me a name, a place, and I can do a bit of research first?"

"It's not that kind of club, kid. You're either in or you're out." 

"How much?" Peter asked, his mouth felt dry. He knew this was a bad idea. He glanced around real quick, feeling a sudden surge of anxiety, anxious and self conscious over the possibility of being overheard. Whatever this guy was talking about was definitely criminal. Some sort of underground fighting ring that probably involved a lot of illegal betting. "How much do I stand to gain? What's the prize?"

...

The recruiter brought Peter to a large, nondescript building in Manhattan's Lower East Side. They entered through an alley, the back entrance, and ascended a narrow flight of stairs that took them backstage and past an office space that appeared to be used as dressing rooms. Peter immediately sensed the vibrations in the floor and heard the sound of music and shouting reverberating through the walls. 

The fights had already begun, by the look of things. There were a couple men with white coats and first aid kits open attending to some shirtless guys on gurneys. Peter saw one man getting his brow stitched closed where it had busted open above his eye. 

"Wait here," the recruiter told him, Peter barely heard him, he was so quickly overwhelmed by all the movement around him. His brain immediately registered everything as chaos, but the longer he stood there and watched, the more he came to realize how much that wasn't the case. The men around him were moving slowly, with only a handful of people rushing around and directing the others giving the scene the impression of being in a big rush.

 _"Alright,"_ the man came back after what felt like an hour, but barely nine minutes had passed when Peter glanced at the clock. "You're in, kid. You'll have your first fight in 30 minutes. Take that time to get warmed up. I can set you up with someone that'll give you a few pointers, if you want." 

"Okay," Peter agreed. _"Yeah,_ that sounds good."

 _"Hey!_ Wilson!" He shouted and gestured towards someone in a red and black head to toe ninja getup that had been folding paper airplanes on the other side of the room. "Get over here."

"Not cool, man," the guy shot back in a very upbeat manner. "Respect the mask," he said, "it's called a _secret_ identity for a reason." 

 _"Ahh,_ shove it, Wade." 

 _"And who's this?"_ Wilson-Wade had leant forward with his hands on his knees and used the infuriating voice that most adults usually reserve for addressing small children and baby animals. Peter tried not to grind his teeth in annoyance. Wade Wilson straightened up and his attention quickly returned to the recruiter, "Is it take your child to work day? I can't believe I forgot, I really need a new calendar. Heck, I didn't even know you had a kid." 

"Shut up, this ain't no kid and he's definitely not mine."

"I'm seventeen," Peter repeated the lie he'd given the recruiter earlier, pleased with himself that he sounded more confident this time. 

Wade gripped his sides and threw his head back and let out a peel of laughter. "No, _really,_ kid," he wiped a pretend tear from his eye, "How old _are_ you? _Twelve?"_

Peter crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. 

 _"Seriously?"_ Wade asked, "What the fuck?" He directed that question at the recruiter. 

"Kid says he's seventeen. That's good enough for the boss, which means that's good enough for me. He's got a fight in 29 minutes. You looked bored, so here you go. Help him prep for it." 

 _"Fuck no,"_ Wade complained, "I can't condone this. Is he even potty trained yet? Look at him! He's practically a toddler." 

 _"I'm seventeen!"_ Peter repeated more firmly this time. 

 _"Shhh-s_ hush." Wade shoved one raised finger in front of Peter's face. "Hush now, child, the grown-ups are talking." 

"We can waste time standing and arguing or you can give the kid some tips that might just save his life. Your call." 

There was what felt like a very long pause. 

"Alright,  _fine._ Come on, baby boy, let Daddy Deadpool teach you the facts of life."

"27 minutes," the recruiter said as he walked away. 

"The very abbreviated version." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please gimme feedback on whether or not you guys are interested in this part of the story! 
> 
> I'm still deciding how much time and energy I want to devote to fleshing this out. If I don't receive feedback, then I will probably wind up glossing over most of these details rather than exploring them.
> 
> *The Newspaper Ad was directly stolen from the first Spider-Man movie (2002, directed by Sam Raimi & starring Tobey, in case that wasn't clear, and I definitely do not recommend calling that phone number).


	10. What If...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The What If Game. Peter discretely tries to test his friends reactions after realizing that he has super powers. The conversation is quickly derailed. I don't have any more context than that. 
> 
> (Except to remind people and inform anyone that doesn't know yet, that DC Comics exists in this universe in the same way that it exists in the real world, but without the competition of Marvel Comics, obviously.)
> 
> This was just fun and I'm not sure if I'll expand anymore on it. There's not really any big Plot Relevant Details except further establishing (1) Peter's admiration for the Avengers and his desire to one day be a superhero. (2) Harry has a crush on Peter, which MJ is well aware of and Peter is completely oblivious to. (3) My I'll advised attempt to work in how semi-obsessively Harry likes to mention his favorite comic book hero, Batman. (Oh, and imagine that, the son of a billionaire who owns a chemical/tech company thinks that Batman is the best hero.)

####  What If...

 _"...._ you woke up with super powers?" 

Peter had to try very,  _very_ hard to downplay how invested he was in this question. Meanwhile, the other members of the squad all reacted with varying levels of  exasperation and annoyance, but none of them were the least bit surprised by Peter's question. 

"Well, I guess that would depend on what kind of powers we're talking about."

"Um," Pete cleared his throat and stumbled over his answer.

"How about we default on Generic Super Soldier. Enhanced reflexes, strength, endurance, and all that jazz," Harry suggested. 

 _"But that's so boring,"_ Gwen complained. "If we're going to talk about crazy hypotheticals, then  _I think_ we can do better than that." 

"You need some sort of gimmick," Mary Jane was quick to jump on Ms. Stacy's team. "Because we all know that any talk about super - _anything_ is going to tie back into Parker's crazy ass plan to join the _Avengers_." 

 _"What? Me?_ How would I ever -" Peter spluttered, "I'm not. I'm definitely not saying that." 

"Oh, _you're not?"_ Mary Jane was beyond amused by Peter's flustered response. Honestly, as if any of them could possibly forget the boy's crazy hero worship of Iron Man and Captain America. Poor impressionable Petey bought into the notion of real life superheroes faster than anyone. 

"I mean, _I would,"_ Peter nervously pinched and tugged on the frayed edges of his sleeve.  _"Obviously,_ I would, if they would have me, but I don't actually have powers." The lie rolled off his tongue easier than he thought it would, but probably only because his abilities were still so new that they barely even felt real and like any minute now he might wake up from this really crazy dream. 

"You mean, aside from your big brain?" Gwen piped in. "Or have you given up on the possibility of eventually wooing Tony Stark with your incredible persistence and ingenuity. And of course, designing some suitably useful battle tech so he'll consider making you a suit?" As if that was all it took. But he'd had this fantasy since he was eleven, so it felt a bit cruel to completely pulverize the notion. At least allow the dork to dream a little longer. 

MJ was laughing at him again, good naturally but Peter's face still heated up in embarrassment. 

 _"No."_ Peter said, "I realize now how absolutely ridiculous that sounds. But a boy can dream, can't he?" 

"It's not ridiculous," Harry spoke up, and it was only then that the others realized how unusually quiet Osborn had been. MJ rolled her eyes and flopped backwards in a dramatic _'oh bother, here we go again,'_ sort of way that Peter didn't fully comprehend the context for. Not that Peter was paying MJ much attention anymore, because his focus zeroed in on Harry. The hopefulness he felt must've been clearly written all over Peter's face, because Harry felt compelled to clarify. "Okay, it is _a little_ silly, but it's not completely ridiculous." 

"It's not?" Gwen didn't even sound incredulous, just curious as to why Harry would prolong this fantasy. 

Meanwhile, MJ thought it was only too fitting for  _Harry_ to encourage  _Peter_ to keep chasing his dreams. Now, free spirit that MJ is, it's not usually her style to cut holes in someone's metaphorical sails, but  _come on,_ this ship is still securely attached to the port, the anchor is buried in the sand, and there's not even enough wind to spin a pinwheel, so it's not as if this is going anywhere anyhow. 

"You can't honestly think that -" 

"Why not?" Harry was serious. _Actually serious._

 _'No, this is so obviously a setup,'_  the rest of the squad may as well have shared a telepathic link as they all simultaneously decided that they knew where this was going. 

"If _Tony Stark_ can be a hero, then Peter Parker sure as hell can." 

"Oh, thank God," Gwen said, "I thought you were going to bring up Batman." 

"Ha! _Nooo,"_ Harry dragged out the word and then his mouth stretched into an obnoxious smile, clearly having lured them into his trap. "But _now that you mention him -"_

"No, no, no!" MJ quickly interjected, _"Dammit, Gwen,_ you know not to use the B word around him." 

"Sorry, sorry," Ms Stacy raised both hands in a placating gesture. 

"Can we circle back to the part where you think _I_ could be a hero?"

"You _are_ a hero," Harry said without any hesitation. "You're _my hero,_ Pete, and you're way too good for The Avengers." 

Peter's tummy was warm and fuzzy and that feeling was slowly spreading, his face flushing an even deeper shade of red than before. 

"So what'ssay, we all get back to the question," Gwen suggested, "before you two teenage girls get any more mushy on us." 

"Any more than you already have," MJ teased.

Harry didn't mind being called a girl, but Peter bristled a bit when he realized what Gwen had just said about them.

"Excuse you," Peter complained, "Manly men can have mushy gooey feelings too." 

"Amen to that!" Harry raised a hand for Parker to high five, which Peter slapped so enthusiastically that Osborn let out a girlish little yelp upon impact. The girls both fell over laughing at that. "Not funny guys," Harry complained, "that actually hurt."

"Sorry," Peter winced in sympathy, silently cursing himself for so easily forgetting his newfound strength.

"It's fine," Harry shrugged, still gingerly massaging his palm with his uninjured hand. "But seriously, make a habit of that I might just have to start calling you Doctor Todd." 

"Who what now?" Gwen asked. 

"I believe he's trying to make a Scrubs reference," MJ clarified, "and I believe it would be more appropriate to call him The Todd." 

"Yes, and thank you for the correction, Miss Watson." 

"You're welcome." 

"Wasn't Todd the sex obsessed jock-surgeon guy?" Peter asked, apparently failing to see any connection to himself. 

"Who was known for his ridiculously strong high fives," Harry pointed out. 

"Oh," Peter said, "fair point. I haven't watched that show in ages." 

"It's hilarious. Gwen, If you've never seen it then you _must_ come over and binge watch with me later." 

"Will do," Gwen said, scratching a note for herself on a scrap of notebook paper. "Now, are we ever going to get back to the game?"

"I already forgot the question," Harry readily admitted. "What were we talking about?" 

"It was Peter's turn," MJ supplied and all eyes turned expectantly towards Parker. 

"I said: what if you woke up with super powers? But then you guys started arguing over the question being too vague and we got sidetracked."

"What? _Nooo,"_ Gwen shook her head, _"Us?_ Getting sidetracked? That _never_ happens."

Peter stuck his tongue out at her and she responded in kind. 

####  What If...

"What if you got to cast the actor - _or actress_ \- that would play you in a movie about your life?"

"And _no,_ you _cannot_ cast yourselves to play the role."

"Awe," MJ and Harry both whined.

Peter had a rueful smile, "Honestly, I'm tempted to cast Daniel Radcliffe, if for no other reason than it would make the story of my Harry Potter cosplay that much more epic."

"I like how you say that as if it was _already_ epic."

"Maybe because _it was."_

"Literally, all you did was throw on a robe, draw a lightning bolt on your forehead and wave a stick around."

"As I said, it was epic."

"Epic," Harry agreed. 

The boys both high fived while the girls rolled their eyes. 

 

 


	11. Bullies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another character building exercise, draft of a potential scene that may or may not later expand into something that actually moves the plot forward.

The faint clicking sound from the lock turning was still loud enough to catch Norman's attention from where he was reclined in the front living room. The door swung open, and Norman listened to the scuffing sounds as Harry kicked his shoes off and shoved them into the entry closet before trying to sneak by unnoticed. Norman glanced up to catch sight of his son hiding behind the raised collar of his jacket. His father's voice stopped Harry in his tracks. 

"Son, what happened to your face?" From his current vantage point, Norman couldn't possibly have gotten a good look at the damage yet. Harry silently cursed any and every one of the people on Norman's payroll that might've tattled on him, from the chaffeur/bodyguards to the doormen. 

"It's nothing, Dad," he nervously shifted his weight between his feet for a moment before he gathered the courage to try and joke about it. "You should see the other guy."

"Should I also be making time to speak to this other guy's parents? Or the principal?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "Not necessary. It was just - _ugh,_ Flash and his goons were harassing Peter, _and I -"_

"This again?" Norman let out an exasperated sigh. Noisily he dropped the papers he'd been reading onto the coffee table while he rose to his feet. 

"Yes, _again!"_ Harry exclaimed, "I had to step in and defend his honor!" He tried his best to stand straight and hold his ground. He wasn't eager for another confrontation. At least he knew it would never come to blows between him and his Dad, but at least the bruises would fade. Sometimes Harry wasn't so sure that the damage caused during Daddy's verbal tear downs would ever heal. Harry resolved to try that much harder to defend himself and his actions this time around. "They thought they could be sneaky and tie Pete's shoes together from under the bleachers. I couldn't _not_ sneak down there and punch 'em in the nose. But no teachers or narcs saw what went down, so that's that. Petty squabbles that'll all be forgot tomorrow."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose I could mix in more about how Harry thinks that Norman only cares because he's annoyed at the prospect of having to waste time fixing Harry's mess, so he needs to reassure Dad that there won't be consequences cuz they weren't caught in the act and no tattle tales were around to see it. 
> 
>  


	12. Mean Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here's a draft of my characterization of Sally so far and how I plan to work in the impact of her very brief role as romantic competition. Also, planting the seeds for why Peter makes the mistake of asking Sally out on the first day of Junior Year (as he did in Spectacular Spider-Man), because Peter winds up under the mistaken impression that Sally likes him. *Spoiler: He is very, very wrong. 
> 
> Context: this would occur sometime during their Sophomore Year in High School. It could've easily started pre-Spider Bite, but I'm not entirely decided on that.

#### The Star

Sally Avril wasn't as pretty as Mary Jane or as smart as Gwen Stacy. _No,_ Sally Avril was very much the typical teenage girl that would've been featured as a stock character in every totally unimaginative and cliché High School AU. But in Sally's World, she was much more than just a disposable side character. She was a star, and not just any star among trillions; _no,_ she was _The Star_ in competition with the very sun for the center of this and, _oh hell,_ every universe.

Sally made the B Honor Roll Freshman year and she had high hopes of getting on the A-List this year. She'd scored a position as Head Cheerleader by being extra friendly with the coach. She was on good terms with all of her teachers and the vast majority of her peers would quickly and easily bow to her will under most circumstances. Sally Avril was most definitely the Queen B of her own grade. As a sophomore, she was still underdeveloped compared to her older competition, but she was determined not to let that stop her from conquering the school. 

It wasn't unusual for Sally to flirt with the boys in their junior and senior years, there were whispers about her giving handjobs and letting players fondle her boobs behind the bleachers, but somehow she always managed to spin the rumor mill in her favor. Sally Avril was also the predominant gossip of the whole school. She had a fashion vlog, fitblr, Facebook and Twitter following, an online presence that was unmatched among her peers. Everyone knew Sally Avril and Sally knew everything about anyone that ever mattered - or she always pretended to. Those that managed to allude her were easily dismissed as being beneath her notice. All that is, _except for one._ Harold Theopolis Osborn.

Harry was the aloof son of a billionaire. He transferred into the public school district back in the seventh grade. At first, no one knew quite what to make of him.

Harry had a reputation for picking fights with boys that were bigger than him. Even when he lost, Harry always seemed to come out on top. It didn't take long before he managed to get the teachers on his side, although the general populace couldn't decide if it was more likely that the adults were accepting bribes or if Osborn's natural charisma was to blame for that. 

Harry was always irritatingly beyond Sally's reach. But that was all about to end, because Sally had a plan.

Sally, like everyone else in Midtown High, had been initially shocked and bemused when Harry Osborn stood up for Peter Parker in front of Flash Thompson. Then the rich kid actually started sitting with Peter at lunch and inviting him to hangout after school. It didn't take long for Sally, just like everyone else, to deduce that the whole reason for this was so that Osborn could cheat off the geeky little know-it-all.

In addition to that, Sally knew the value of keeping a pity case close at hand. The false charity of being perceived to be generous towards the downtrodden was good publicity, and keeping a fugly friend around always made _The Star_ look better by compare. A convenient little ego boost to carry around in your back pocket. And the desperate friendless sort were always so easy to manipulate when you showed them even the barest bit of kindness. 

So, Sally hatched her plan in small increments. If Harry wouldn't respond to her direct approach, then she'd have to be more subtle. She'd find a backdoor into his life. Peter Parker was a convenient place to begin.

She started with a little smile here and there, the faintest hint of acknowledgement when she generously held the door open behind her when almost anyone else would've let it slam shut in Peter's face. All it took was a few kind gestures before she swore that she was ready to have him eating out of her hand. 

Then she sidled up next to Peter in their shared History class. "Hey, I heard you were tutoring Harry. Harry Osborn. I mean, I overheard him say that you saved his ass. Helped raise his failing grades so much that he had half a chance of actually making the B Honor Roll. Congrats."

"It was all him," Peter said, his face quickly flushed so red that it looked painful. "I didn't - I mean, _he_ put in all the work, and _I -_ I just helped a little where I could." Pete self consciously rubbed at his flaring cheeks, probably wishing that he could sink into the floor. Sally pretended not to notice his obvious discomfort, and internally screamed that interacting with this dweeb was going to be about as fun as pulling teeth. 

"Oh, you shouldn't be so modest, Pete. Ya know, I tried my hand at tutoring once with Lizzy. You know Liz Allan, right?"

Peter nodded. Of course he knew Elizabeth Allan, she's only one of the most popular girls in the whole school. Also, Liz was Sally's best friend. Liz Allan's father owned a big venue in uptown. Classy place, very expensive, and Lizzy had an older, bad boy half-brother that talked a big game whenever he was in town. _'Don't get distracted, Sally. Stay on target.'_

Sally leaned closer to act the part as she confided, "Don't get me wrong, Liz is great. But not very studious, so believe me - _I know_ the value of a good tutor. You have to be really patient to make any headway. And most of the time they just want you to do all the work for them, which can be tempting just so you can stop wanting to tear your own hair out after watching them struggle over the _simplest_ damn problems for twenty minutes. I can't imagine that Harry makes it very easy for you either." 

Peter's face twisted, the flush abating as he turned to stare at his hands where they rested on the desk in front of him, anxiously fiddling with his mechanical pencil. For a very tense moment Sally felt ready to snap - thinking that the ungrateful doof had just suddenly decided to ignore her. But then he looked up again and if her face were four more inches to the left then they might've been close to making eye contact. 

"Harry's not like that," he spoke quietly, not wanting to draw any extra attention to himself. The expression on Sally's face was confusing, so Peter directed the rest of what he had to say towards the desk instead. _"He -_ he really wants to get better. To be better. He just has a lot to live up to." 

 _Hm._ So Pete's not the kind of guy to throw his friend under the bus even if it would boost his image in front of a pretty girl. _'Should've expected that the dweeb would send me a curve ball.'_ But it would take more than that to throw _Sally Avril_ off her game. 

"I'm sorry," she quickly apologized. _"I didn't mean to imply -"_

The bell chose that exact moment to interrupt.

Peter shook his head and gathered up his book, folder, notebook and writing utensils. He hugged everything close to his chest as he clumsily stumbled out of his seat. "No," he muttered, and she almost didn't hear over the rush of all the other students filing out of the classroom. "I know you didn't. It's okay. I've gotta go now." 

And then Peter fled as fast as his short legs would carry him and rushed out into the hall. Probably in search of Harry. Sally groaned. _'Okay. This is going to be harder than I thought.'_

#### Another day, another attempt.

"Hey," Sally snuck up on Pete when she saw him lingering just outside the school building. Peter had been slinking off towards a remote area by the dumpsters. He jumped back in surprise and backed himself into a corner when he heard her. "Just the genius I was looking for. This latest science project is insane. It's seriously driving me crazy, and I could use some help sorting through it. You wouldn't mind helping me, would you, Petey?"

"Oh," Peter almost looked for a moment like he was struggling to detach himself from where he was clinging to the wall. _"I -_  um, I'm not sure I could. You're so pretty. Err, _smart._ So smart _and pretty,_ I don't see how I could help." After slowly managing to pull his hands away from the brick, he carefully starting wringing them in a way that Sally thought looked weirdly deliberate for what was usually a subconscious gesture, but her mind didn't linger on it. 

"Aw, you're sweet," she praised, "and you're kind of cute too, in a total dork kind of way."

#### And Another

"Come on, Petey, when a pretty girl asks you for something, it's always easiest to just say yes. If you question my interest too much, then maybe I'll start to question it myself and wonder _what was I even thinking?_ Do you want a little thing like hesitation to spoil this? I know I don't."

"Oh, okay. Um, yes."

"Great! You and me. Silver Spoon after school," she turned to leave and then quickly thought better of it, _"Oh!_ And you can bring Harry, too."

"Harry? Why would I - why would you want me to bring Harry along?"

Sally's face was morphed into one of mock surprise, horror even. "Peter Parker, you're not really thinking about abandoning your devoted student just for a little _alone time_ with a pretty girl, are you? Why, _Peter!_ What kind of _friend_ are you?"

Peter opened and closed his mouth a couple times, unable to think of a clever retort. 

"I think you're smart enough to be able to multitask. Besides, I've also heard how distracted you can get. At least this way I can trust you're less likely to get lost along the way."

 _"I don't need Harry to -"_ Peter wanted to protest, but his stomach did flip flops just thinking about how nerve wracking it would be to meet up with Sally Avril all on his own.

"Hey, _it's okay!"_ Sally cut him off with a plethora of reassurance. "It's cool. I mean, it's a little - _you know,_ dopey, but I actually think it's kind of really - um, _cute,_ the way you follow him around. The lost puppy look really suits you, Petey. So bring Harry. The three of us can hang out and talk math or science at the Silver Spoon. I'll be waiting." She winked and blew a kiss as she fled the table and walked across the cafeteria to rejoin her friends.

Sally was welcomed by a chorus of feminine giggles. Peter stared dumbly after her and nervously lifted his hand to wave as the other girls in the group all glanced toward him. A couple of them even waved back and the group as a whole erupted into a burst of laughter.

Belatedly, Harry found his way into the seat next to Peter, closely followed by MJ and Gwen Stacy sitting across from them.

"What's up with them?" MJ jerked a thumb in the direction of the girls.

"I think Sally Avril just asked me out."

The other three stopped everything to stare at Peter with raised brows. 

"Out to the Silver Spoon. For a study session or something. I mean, she said it's cool if I bring Harry. If you don't mind tagging along, I mean. I - um, I'd really appreciate it.... _Please don't make me go alone."_

"Why bother going at all?" MJ wondered aloud. "They're clearly up to something. Just look at them over there. Cackling. They're clearly definitely plotting some kind of vicious, cruel trick. Why let yourself get dragged into it?"

"I think maybe she's really into me," Peter said and it was so deadpan and genuine and actually serious that the others couldn't even laugh at him for saying that. "Really. I think maybe Sally Avril has some hidden depths... And, um, she said she thought I was cute. Kind of cute."

"You're serious. You're really thinking about going?"

"Yeah," Peter sounded uncertain, but then he screwed his face up into a more determined look and gave a much more confident nod. "Yeah, I am."

And the way he gathered his courage warmed Harry's heart, even while his stomach filled with dread. Peter was just too effin' adorable, he couldn't help it.

"Fine," Harry said, "I'm cpming with. No way I'm not letting you go alone."  

_'Thank god.'_

 


	13. Dinner Party With The Parkers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another random draft that I may or may not decide to elaborate on later so that it actually moves the plot forward. More or less this is just another of my attempts to practice my characterizations.

_"Shoo,"_ May flapped one hand at Mr. Osborn and gave Petey a light shove out of the kitchen with the other. "Harry and I have everything under control in here. You boys just see to it that the table is set and ready."  
  
Ben entered the kitchen several minutes later. "I can barely understand every other word when those two get going," he complained. "How are things in here? Need any help, May?"  
  
"The offer is appreciated, but -" she stopped stirring the gravy to reach over and slap her husband's hand away from where he was stealing a smidgen of frosting off the cake. Her harsh glare of disapproval softened immediately after he caught and held her gaze for a tender moment. She rolled her eyes, turned to grab a basket of dinner rolls and shoved them into Ben's hands,  "We're almost done here. If you need something to occupy your hands, you can take this to the table and keep an eye on our two geniuses."  
  
"Leave them alone unsupervised for too long, and they're liable to destroy your living room _for science."_ Harry spoke offhand, but there was an understated note of seriousness that left one to wonder whether he was kidding or not.


	14. Butt Buddies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BECAUSE I am desperate for any praise or encouragement and would like to remind any subscribers that I am still very interested in making new friends and possibly co-authoring or beta reading,
> 
> Here's some Harry/Peter butt sex to get your attention. 
> 
> It's not Harry's first time taking it up the ass, but Peter is new to this.
> 
> First part is a draft intended to fit into Freshman Year of High School. During their trip in Paris I want their friendship to have evolved to include cuddling, dry humping and handjobs. 
> 
> The next scene skips ahead to their first time doing anal. Unsure of whether or not I can fit this into their Sophomore year or if it will have to wait until Junior Year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warnings** for internalized homophobia (Peter is in denial about his attraction to Harry, continually insisting that he isn't gay), references to what happened in Paris imply the possibility of dubious consent during a past sexual encounter.

_Oh boy,_

_Oh boy,_ Pete had _that look_ on his face, the one that meant young Mr. Parker had some _very_ _personally_ _significant_ question to ask. Something Peter was probably too embarrassed to discuss around the girls or any grown ups, which is why he's been anxiously waiting til he could be sure that they were finally truly alone together before he started gathering the courage to prompt conversation.

Harry pretended that nothing was out of the ordinary, but he had noticed all the tell-tale signs over an hour ago, and he _knew_ it was coming, would be coming, _very soon._ He didn't know what exactly Pete wanted to talk about, but he felt certain that some sort of important discussion was imminent. He could just tell. Sure enough,

 _"Hh-_ Harry?" Peter asked without looking at him. 

"Yeah, Pete?" Harry kept his voice relaxed, trying to sound semi-distracted so as not to let on that he'd been waiting for this. Expecting it, really.

 _"No,_ never mind," Peter ducked his head in immediate surrender. 

Harry gave an exaggerated groan before deciding to drop all pretenses. "You've been acting all mopey and weird for _over an hour._ Never mind _nothing,_ Parker. You're going to tell me what's bothering you eventually, aren't you? Or are you going to keep worrying over this until it makes you sick?"

Harry made a good point. This stupid nagging thought of his had been making Peter feel ill for days now, _not just hours._ He didn't know when next the stars would align again so that he would get this perfect chance to talk to Harry alone. If Pete kept chickening out, then pretty soon they'd be parting ways for Winter Break and it could be several weeks before he'd get another chance. And he felt as though he might just _die_ if he had to wait that long.

 _"Do you -_ do you remember Paris?" Peter asked, the words flying out of his mouth in a rush.

"Paris," Harry remembered, quite fondly, and he couldn't help but tease his friend, "You mean our little summer of love?" 

With a groan of pretend pain, Pete shoved his face into a pillow. _"Ugh, oh god, don't call it that,"_ was almost completely unintelligible, muffled as it was.

Harry tried not to make any assumptions about where this conversation was heading. Tried not to panic about whether or not Peter was really upset about what had transpired between them. ' _It was months ago!'_ he thought, _'If he was really upset about it then he definitely would've said so sooner. Besides, Pete doesn't seem mad right now or any more depressed than usual.'_

"Sorry," Harry apologized, because as much as he tried to stop himself from fearing the worst, he was sure that their friendship was about to come to an abrupt and terrible end. He thought he'd probably need to apologize at least a dozen more times before this was over and it still might not be enough. It might _never_ be enough after what he'd done.

Harry had selfishly convinced Peter to play sex games when they'd been left alone together in that Paris hotel room. Peter had seemed okay with it at the time, excited even. But he'd been thousands of miles from home and in retrospect, he'd probably just been too scared to refuse. _How does anyone ever really apologize for something like that?_ But when Peter unburied his face from his hands, he shook his head.

"No, _I'm_ sorry," Peter told him. Harry's brain stalled, wondering what - _if not some form of outrage or grievance -_ this was all about.  _"I shouldn't have thought -"_ but Peter didn't want to complete that thought at all. "I'm sorry," he repeated again lamely.

"Oh my god, Parker," Harry exclaimed, but there was no anger, disgust or anything cruel in the way he said it. If anything, he sounded relieved and a little exasperrated. Harry just wanted Peter to understand how absurd it was to keep them both on edge like this. "I have no idea what you're even talking about."

"I'm sorry," Peter repeated.

"I know. _I got that._ Stop apologizing," Harry laughed good naturedly, hoping that would help ease the tension. "Just tell me whatever it is that's been bothering you and what it's got to do with Paris."

"Okay. Okay, _yeah,"_ Peter said mostly to himself. _'You can do this, Pete. Just say it._ Out loud. _Harry will understand. Harry always understands everything.'_ Peter rubbed the back of his neck and aimed to make eye contact with Harry's left shoulder. It was the closest that Pete could get to looking his friend in the face while he said this,

"I was just - _I was wondering -_ hoping, really, - that _maybe,"_ Peter paused to swallow down his insecurity and quickly - very quickly glance at Harry's kind eyes and patient smile. "Maybe we could, _um,_ do it. A - uh,  _again_  some...time..."

Silence hung in the air for what felt like a very long moment, but was probably less than a second.

"Not that - _I don't mean -"_ Peter abruptly started to panic, wanting to clarify, "I don't want to go traveling the world again. Not _that_ part. I mean _the other part._ You know the part. _I mean -_ Yeah." Peter squinted his eyes closed. _'That was so pathetic,'_ he chastised himself. "Yeah." 

 _'Shit, yeah,'_ Harry knew exactly which part Peter was referring to, and it definitely wasn't anything to do with the site seeing or _anything else outside their hotel._ The highlight of the whole trip had been those two days that the pair had spent almost entirely in bed. Together. Together _in bed._ It still felt like a dream every time Harry thought about it. Like, _the best dream ever!_  

Afterwards, Harry had been worried that Peter would be upset with him. He'd thought for sure that he should've apologized for it, that he'd crossed a line by pressuring Peter into it. He swore he hadn't meant to force Peter to doing anything Pete didn't want, but he'd only realized _after_ how horrible that situation might've been from Peter's perspective. Stuck in a foreign country, completely dependent on a wealthier and supposedly 'worldly' best friend.

After they returned home, Peter had seemed to get nervous around him a lot more than he ever used to, but he didn't really avoid Harry. Pete was just a little bit more distant for a while and Harry gave him his space. They hadn't really talked about it at all except to jokingly say 'what happens in Paris, stays in Paris,' when Mary Jane had asked them about their trip. 

 _But..._ if Peter wanted to do it again... then that must mean that Peter had enjoyed it. And not just in the moment, but _maybe_ Peter even still thinks about it sometimes when he touches himself. Why else would he have spent hours trying to figure out how to introduce the possibility of a repeat performance?

Harry was steadily growing warmer. He could almost feel his temperature spike. Just the thought of doing it again was making him hot all over, his dick half hard and growing. He was so _fucking_ horny, but he had to dial back his enthusiasm. _He had to._ He couldn't just jump Peter and say, 'Hell yeah, let's do it right now!' _Could he?_

#### Fast Forward, Post-Spider Bite

Peter self-consciously toyed with the hem of his shirt.  Pete didn't have any way to explain how he's suddenly acquired six pack abs. He figured he should at least make some effort to pretend to work out for a while first, before revealing how totally fucking cut he is. Otherwise, he might as well just confess now to being mutated or enhanced or whatever - and after that it's only a matter of time before someone wants to poke and prod him with needles and invasive tests.

"Um, Harry? Do you think - _maybe_... It wouldn't be too weird if I kept my shirt on. Would it?"

"Yeah," Harry shook his head, "No, of course it's okay. Whatever's most comfortable for you, Pete." Harry was a little disappointed, but he tried not to let it show. He stayed focused on the positives, like how he managed to convince Peter to do this _at all._ "You don't mind if I take mine off, do you?"  _And Holy Shit,_ the thought just occured to him of how hot the dichotomy would be, contrasting Harry's naked body against a still mostly clothed Peter Parker. 

"No, it's cool." Peter thought he'd definitely prefer to have Harry totally naked. Which - no, wait, _it's not gay._  Who can tell the difference between boy skin and girl skin anyway, huh? Especially when Harry can afford to splurge on expensive lotions and acne treatments, he's so smooth and it just feels good to touch him, _but that doesn't make it gay._

...

"Okay, here's the thing," Harry wasn't quite sure how to say this. "You can't just stick it in."

"Right," Peter agreed, trying and failing to sound like he totally understood exactly what Harry meant by that. "We need to lube up first." 

"Not just lube," Harry pulled a pair of disposable gloves out of his kit. "I - the ass is really, um, _flexible,_ but like any muscle - you need a proper warm up and stretching before any, uhh, _strenuous_ activity or else you run the risk of tearing." 

Peter went a little bit pale at that, considering the possibility. _"Ow."_

"Yeah," Harry laughed, _"Ow_ is right. _So..._ One of us is going to glove up and  _ah,"_ Harry cleared his throat a bit awkwardly. "Warm it up. With a little fingering. Lubrication. It's really not as strange as it sounds, Pete. No need to look so intimidated, it's just a butthole."

"Yeah, but... I don't know if I should. Maybe _we_ shouldn't. _I just_ \- I don't want to hurt you," Peter was reconsidering whether or not any of this was a good idea. He certainly didn't trust his ability to do this without screwing up. 

"It's really quite simple. Easy. It doesn't even hurt, not really," Harry tried to reassure him. "I mean, okay, there might be a little discomfort at first, but that's normal, and I promise it'll be worth it if we can just work past it. We'll go slow. I'll guide you the whole way, but I'd - um, I'd really rather have you," Harry wiggled his fingers, "prepare me, rather than have to do it all myself."

Peter didn't respond right away, just sort of sighed and continued to look unsure. 

"I mean, I _could_ do it myself. I've done it before, but it would feel _better_ with you. And you really should get a preview of what it feels like with your fingers before you stick your dick in. For perspective, I mean, you wanna know what you're getting yourself into, right?" Harry's joke broke through Peter's worry.

"Yeah," Pete chuckled. "Yeah, _okay,_ fair point." He nodded with a new look of determination settling over his features. "Yeah, I can do this." 

...

"Are you sure? _Really sure_ about this, Harry?" Peter's hands were both gloved and coated with a generous amount of lube. They'd opted to use a water based jelly formula, because Harry said it would help reduce the friction - preventing injury and maybe even allowing Peter's inexperienced dick to last longer. 

 "Yeah, I'm sure, Petey." Harry spread his legs and held each one under the knees to keep them up and out of the way. His face and chest were both flushed, but he kept mentally reminding himself that he had nothing to be embarrassed about. Peter had seen it all before anyhow. Well, _okay,_ he'd never gotten this completely unobstructed view of Harry's puckered little hole, but he kept everything well groomed down there. _Everything was fine._ No need to start freaking out. Harry took a deep breath and mentally reminded himself that he was safe. He was the one setting the pace, and he could trust Peter to follow his instructions to the letter. "I'm good. Go for it." 

Peter gave a silent nod. With only a small lingering hint of hesitation, Pete reached down and traced his lubed middle and forefinger around Harry's asshole. His butt buddy closed his eyes and leaned his head back with an audible sigh. 

"You okay?" Peter asked. He was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, not entirely sure what to make of the other boy's facial expression. Although he suspected, or at least _hoped,_ that the look on Harry's face was one of bliss and not pain.

"The anticipation is killing me," Harry told him. "It's not going to bite you, I promise." 

"Thanks for that, I didn't need anal teeth to fuel my future nightmares." 

Harry's answering laughter was subdued, his attention focused solely now on the intrusion as Peter's fingers breached the entrance to his poop chute.  _'Shit._ _Don't be so vulgar. Don't ruin this beautiful, beautiful moment.'_

"It feels good," Harry wasn't lying _per se,_ but it was only a half truth. They hadn't gotten to the good part yet. 

"Yeah?" Peter got a little bit more bold in his exploration. Harry sought to help them both relax by keeping a running commentary to distract them from being self conscious, what with the strangeness of all this. 

"Yeah, your hands are warm. The lube is a little cold, but it's more of a clean, fresh feeling rather than shocking. And - and, oh," Harry couldn't help but reflexively squeeze his sphincter around Peter's knuckles. Parker stared on in awe. "Oh, it's weird, but so, _so fucking._ Unf," Harry's toes curled and he was vaguely aware of what felt like every muscle in his body spasming as Peter stumbled upon his prostate. _"Right there._ Aim for that spot again. Fuck, I don't even know how to describe it, except for _wow."_

"A good wow?" Peter was already adjusting the position of his wrist so that he could comfortably reach for that same spot again 

"Very good. Curl your fingers a little and just - _yes!"_  When Peter found that magic place again this time, the pad of his fingertip managed to maintain a firm grip on it without Peter intentionally trying - he only knew that he didn't want to lose it. "Yes, _yes!_ Just like that."

Harry's erection had never waned but it suddenly seemed more prominent than ever. Peter was fascinated by the sight, the more he pressed against that button inside Harry, the tighter the muscles in Harry's abdomen seemed to coil and pretty soon Harry's cock was leaking a generous amount of precum onto his belly.  

 _"S_ -stop," Harry stuttered. Before Peter could gather the wits to ask if he was okay, Harry answered his silent question. "I'm fine, I just - if you keep at it like that, I might cum, and I don't know if I'll have the energy for this next part if I do that."

"It's okay," Peter wasn't sure what to think of this development, but he'd kind of been excited by the possibility of seeing Harry cum just from being fingered. He'd have never suspected that assplay could be that pleasurable and he still couldn't quite believe it. "We don't have to go all the way."

"No, _but I want to._ This felt really good, but it can barely compare to the pleasure of actual fucking. Trust me, sometimes prolonging the buildup and putting off orgasm is actually worth it. There's this thing called _edging,_ have we talked about that before? Nevermind, let's stay focused on the current game plan." 

... 

The boys moved into position, Peter sitting up with his back against the headboard and Harry straddling his lap. Harry just finished rolling the condom into place over Peter's dick.

"Are you ready for this?" He asked Peter.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Peter's lopsided grin was too fucking adorable.

"I might need you to hold me steady," Harry wet his lips, pondering the danger of his next request. "If it's not too, um, weird for you... It would also help if you kissed me. As a sort of distraction and to, um, keep the mood while I adjust. A little mini make out session while I sit on your cock."

"Oh. Okay," Peter was a bit surprised by that, but he supposed that he probably shouldn't be. They'd practiced kissing with each other before. It was... nice, but - "Yeah, sure. I have no problems with that." Except for how _gay, gay, totally gay that sounds,_ but he was literally about to fuck another boy in the ass so Peter wisely kept that complaint to himself.

"Alright, here we go," Harry lined Peter's cock up, carefully inserting the tip and then slowly lowering himself to take it all in. Peter was almost immediately grabbing at the headboard for something to hold on to.

This was - _this was so much better_ than anything else he'd tried before. Holy fuck, it was hot and tight and _the texture_  feltsofter than velvet. Okay, blowjobs still held the top spot for quick easy fun, but the extra effort to get Harry's butt stretched and ready was so totally worth it and they were barely three seconds into the action. 

 "You okay there?" Harry got settled in Peter's lap, only wincing a little as he adjusted to the feeling. Admittedly, it had been a while since he'd ventured as far as to put something this big up his butt and he was still a little overwhelmed with trying to taper down his giddiness at finally getting fucked by his secret crush. 

 _"Kiss me?"_ Peter said it like a question. "Like we talked about."

Harry couldn't think of anything else he'd rather hear in that moment, except maybe for three little words, but it was _far too soon_ and a completely inappropriate time to be making love confessions under the shroud of lust. For love, Harry could wait a little longer. In the meantime, he would take as many of Peter's kisses as he could get his lips on.  

...

Harry made a rocking motion, rising up and sliding back down a couple times. Peter was seeing stars, it felt so amazing. _"Right now, y you're inside of me._ You're. _Inside._ Of _me."_  Harry let out a happy high pitched groan as Peter's cock pressed against his prostate. "Fuck, _have you thought about that?"_

 _"No -_ not really," Peter tried to moderate his grip on Harry's hips. He didn't want to leave bruises or for the micro-hairs to do that thing where even gentle contact creates a super fast hold, because he had no non-spidery way of explaining _that._ "Shit, Harry, I'm not really thinking about anything except -"

"Except what?" Harry's pace was already slow to begin with, but now it was glacial. Peter shivered.

"Don't stop. _Please, please,_ Harry, _go faster."_

"You want your first time to be quick and sloppy?" Harry pushed his face right up against the side of Petey's, hissing a breath in through his teeth while he battled the urge to drag his tongue across Peter's cheek. Parker was so caught up in the pleasure, Harry felt as though he could get away with almost anything.

Peter whined, _"Fuck,_ Harry, this isn't fair."

"Well then, why don't you _make_ me go faster?"

"Ha - _ah,_ how?" Peter's voice was broken. If he started thrusting into his friend, he wasn't sure he would be able to hold back his true strength. He didn't want to risk it. _But fuck,_ it was so tempting, if Harry didn't start moving faster then he might lose all self control.

Harry's hands overlapped the ones resting on his hips and squeezed.

 _"Ha - Harry._ No!" His outburst might not have been completely justified from Osborn's perspective, but Peter didn't know how else to keep himself in check. He couldn't risk hurting Harry. "No. _Please,_ I don't want to force you."

"It's okay," Harry let go so he could reach up and cup Peter's cheek. His thumb tickled the corner of Peter's mouth. Without thinking about it as anything other than a stimming source of comfort, Peter closed his lips around the appendage and sucked. "I - _oh,_ " Harry's mouth fell open and then he hurriedly had to lick his lips and swallow to keep from drooling. He was entranced by the sight of Peter sucking him, without his even having to prompt the action, and _goddamn_ how did Parker always look so ridiculously sexy whenever he had something in his mouth? _"Fuck,_ that's hot," he resumed bouncing in earnest to reward Peter's initiative as much to sate his own growing need. "Keep teasing me like _that_ and I'll do anything you want."

Peter leant his head back and Harry's thumb slid out with a muted _'pop.'_

 _"Anything?"_ Peter quite liked the sound of that.

 _"Yes,"_ Harry agreed, "the only catch is that you have to _ask_ for it." He had a wicked smile on his face, and Peter almost - almost immediately understood the implications. He would have realized it sooner except the way Harry's muscles flexed around his dick was a little too distracting. "With words, Peter."

 _Oh._ Damn. _'Yup,'_ Peter thought, _'this is a very special kind of torture. Trust an Osborn to think of something this unspeakably cruel.'_ Because Peter _knew_ what he wanted. God, he wanted so many things, but he was way too embarrassed to actually _ask_ for them.

"But you _know_ what I want," Pete sounded a bit like a petulant, bratty child. Like an annoyed sibling, and _oh,_ thinking of Peter _as a brother_ always sent an extra thrill to Harry's dick. 

"I want to hear you say it." 

 _"I -_ " the words stuck in Peter's throat. His mounting frustration making him restless. Peter shifted his hips and bucked upwards in a quick little flurry, simultaneously wrapping his arms around Harry to keep him from falling off when the unexpected movement startled him. 

 _"Oh._ Fuck, Pete," Harry melted into the embrace, clinging to Peter in turn and pressing their foreheads together.  

"I want you to ride me, Harry." Osborn's bright green gaze was intense, but they were too close for Peter to look away. After a brief moment struggling with the fact that this whole exercise didn't afford Peter anytime to think about anyone else, let alone fantasize about being with a girl, he decided that he didn't really care. He was fucking his best friend and he didn't need to pretend otherwise in order to get off on it.

Their breath fanned over each other's faces. Harry was tilting his head and dipping forward in an obvious plea for some lip service.

"And I -" Peter's eyes flitted away from Harry's to fixate on the other boy's mouth. "I want you to kiss me."

Harry didn't need to be told twice. But the kisses fast got sloppy as Harold tried to multitask between controlling the pace of his bouncing and also devouring his friend's lips in needy little nips and suckles. 

It wasn't long before Peter was shuddering on the brink of orgasm. _"Harry,_ I - I don't think I can keep this, _ah,_ _up_ \- much - longer. _I need to -_ I'm going to - _ah."_

"Don't hold back," Harry told him. Peter didn't quite take that as intended. He couldn't help it. Despite how wonderful this whole thing had been, it wasn't how he imagined his first time would be and silly as it was he still wanted to fix one _tiny_ technicality. Peter wanted to be _on top._

So, as Harry's bouncing reached the base and fully impaled him on Peter's cock, Parker grabbed Harry in a full body hug and rolled them over until Harry was lying flat on his back beneath him. They narrowly avoided banging their skulls on the headboard. In apology or by reflex or _who even knew_ or _cared_ why, Peter wrapped a hand around Harry's penis and pumped in rhythm to match the movement of his hips. The shock of it all, the thrill and the hard thrusts that followed in this new angle put Harry over the edge with Peter's hand stroking his cock through the full length of his orgasm. Harry Osborn was rendered speechless, gasping and moaning and writhing beneath Peter Parker. 

It was almost an entire minute later before Peter carefully pulled out. He'd spent his load only moments after Harry but he was reluctant to leave the lovely heat and pressure of his friend's asshole. 

 _"That was -"_ Peter didn't have the words to describe how amazing that felt. "Let's just say, I wouldn't mind doing that again."

Completely undeterred by the sticky splatters of jizz, Harry rolled half on top of his friend and clung to him. "Seconded," he said, "Petey, you can fuck my ass anytime." 

Peter stroked his friend's hair and chuckled. The simple, pure affection of the gesture had Harry mock-purring and mewling into his friend's shoulder. Peter thought he was joking, and that was okay. For now. But Harry meant it. He'd do this as many times as it took to convince Peter that he didn't need to find a girl. Harry would give anything,  _do anything,_ if he could just make Peter feel the same intense feelings that he had right now. 

"Would it be supremely selfish of me to say that I still want you to blow me?" 

It was Harry's turn to laugh, "How can you still have the energy to think about that right now? I'm exhausted." 

"Well," Peter pointed out, _"you_ did all the work. I just kind of sat there and enjoyed it." 

Harry beamed with pride at hearing that. "It was good for me, too." His heart gave a sudden lurch in his chest.  _'Now?'_ he wondered, _'Should I tell him now? Just say it, get it over with.'_ But he couldn't just readily admit that he'd _already known_ he was sexually and romantically attracted to boys. Peter would feel betrayed if he did that. Tricked into this. Harry didn't want to be accused of trying to  _turn_ Peter gay. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and clung tighter to Peter's side. 

Parker remained oblivious to his friend's internal conflict, still happily basking in the afterglow. _"Is it really too early to suggest a round two?"_ He wondered aloud. "If your butt needs a rest, we could just fool around with handsies for a while."

The offer would've normally had Harry over the moon, happy to have any opportunity to pleasure Peter Parker. But now it made him feel sick. _'Am I any better than Eddie? Abusing Peter's trust like this? What would he think of me, if he knew?'_ Peter was bordering on excessive in his continual insistence that he was  _not gay,_ and he was obviously insulted whenever anyone drew that assumption about him.

Harry half-hoped, half-suspected that Peter was only upset by the notion because of how relentlessly he'd been teased by bullies like Flash Thompson. Harry knew what that was like, for a long time Eddie had him convinced that his sexuality was something to be ashamed of. If Peter was really bi like Harry, then maybe it was selfish of him to manipulate Peter into exploring this side of his sexuality. If he could be straight-passing, maybe it was better and safer for Peter to never consider anything else. Either way, it should be Peter's choice, and Harry was crossing the line by manipulating him like this. Would Peter ever forgive him if he knew the truth? _'Do I even deserve his forgiveness after what I've done?'_

Peter didn't register the wet feeling soaking into his t-shirt until after he heard the muffled sniffling. "Harry?" Peter tried to pull away, to shift them both into sitting upright so he could better assess the situation but he wasn't sure if he'd have been strong enough to break Harry's hold without his mysterious enhancements and didn't want to risk doing anything suspicious. "Harry, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" 

Harry silently berated himself for getting so emotional at such an inopportune moment. As if things weren't bad enough, now he was ruining Peter's first time by breaking down into tears. 

"Should I - _what should I - do_  you want me to leave?" Peter was on the verge of panicking, but he was trying to stay calm. _'Stay calm for Harry. It doesn't help anyone if I start freaking out.'_

But Peter didn't know how to stay calm without also emotionally detaching himself, and that left Harry feeling more alone than ever. Here he was, completely naked and defiled in front of his crush. He'd let Peter in. He'd let Peter come inside of him. What if Peter thought he was dirty? What if Peter didn't want him anymore? What if Peter _never_ wanted him? Maybe all Peter wanted was an easy fuck, someone to practice on so that he'd be able to impress girls like Mary Jane. 

"No," Harry hiccuped, "don't leave me. Peter, _please,_ don't leave." 

A shiver ran down Peter's spine, starting at the base of his neck, and it was eerily reminiscent of the tingling feeling he would sometimes get when an unseen assailant throws a punch at him from behind. But there was no accompanying sense of urgency or reflexive instinct to dodge or weave. If this was a warning of danger, it was too little, too late to protect Harry. Pete just wished that he knew what he'd done wrong so he could try to fix it. 

"Maybe," Peter twisted in another attempt to escape Harry's grasp, "maybe we should both get up and put some pants on. Your dad could be coming home soon, and -" 

"No, he's in DC. Remember?" 

 _"Oh,"_ after all that excitement, he'd completely forgotten that Norman was out of town. That's why they'd decided to _do it_ tonight. Because there was virtually no chance of being caught or interrupted.  

Harry's grip on Peter weakened enough that Parker was able to extract his arm and step away from the bed.

"He's not due back til Thursday." Harry's tone was cold, strangely devoid of his usual charm or theatrics, it felt empty. Peter had never seen him look this broken before. "I'm all alone. _Peter, please, don't leave me."_

"I'm not going anywhere, _I'm just -_ I'm going to put some pants on." And if he took longer than was absolutely necessary to find and pull on his clothes than it was only because he didn't know what to do next and he was stalling for time.

...

As he was fussing over the fastening of his pants, he half-turned back to see his friend now mostly covered but only by the thin top sheet, his comforter having been pushed back so much that it had fallen and crumpled on the floor. Harry was shivering and still tear stricken. Peter didn't know what to do, but he figured the best place to start would be finding something nice and clean for Harry to wear. Maybe that would help him to feel less vulnerable so he can calm down and get back to being his usual overconfident and theatrical self. 

Decided on that course of action, Peter made his way into Harry's closet and found a fresh pair of briefs and a matching long set of Batman pajamas. When he emerged, he was relieved to see Oz looking a little less worse for wear. Tentatively, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and handed the clothes over to Harry. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Peter asked, his face was awash with concern. All the pleasure and the happiness from just minutes before had completely vanished. 

Harry took a deep, shaky breath and used the long sleeves of his PJs to dry his eyes. And damn if the Dark Knight emblem didn't make things a little bit better. As hokey and silly as it was, he liked to think that Peter had intentionally selected this outfit because he knew it was Harry's favorite. Because above all, Peter Parker was a good friend. The best friend that he'd ever had. _'No offense, MJ.'_

Harry's mind was still swirling with doubt and regrets.  _'_ _I should've been honest with him from the start. But if I had - we might never have become this close. If he knew I was - would he have still been so open around me? Or would he have pushed me away? If I tell him now - no, I can't. I can't tell him. He'll feel betrayed. As much as I want to know - as much as I may need to know - it isn't worth it if it means hurting him.'_

Meanwhile, Peter was just as anxious.  

"I didn't -" _didn't thrust too hard when I flipped you over, didn't bruise your insides or accidentally adhere and rip off any skin or who knows what else my spider powers could've done without realizing -_ Peter's racing thoughts left him scrambling for the right words to say while avoiding the possibility of scaring or further traumatizing his friend with the most ill-timed super-power confession  _ever._ Which was probably only a slight exaggeration _or maybe not,_ given the rising rate of enhanced people these days. "You're not in pain, are you? Do we need to call someone -" 

"No, Peter, I'm fine." 

"I didn't see any blood when I - but it could still be bruised. Oh my god, _Harry,_ I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have -"

"No, _really._ Peter, I'm fine. It's just," he pulled a disgusted face while he tried to explain as simply and ambiguously as possible, "emotional." Harry scratched his face and avoided looking at Peter's reaction for an awkward moment, trying to think of a suitable excuse that Peter would be able to relate to. "You know how you - how sometimes you get what you call sensory overload?" 

"Too much stimulus." 

"Yeah. Like, even too much of a good thing can become -"

"Painful." 

 ...

"Please tell me I wasn't that bad."

"Oh, _god,_ no," Harry choked out. "I'm so sorry, Peter."

"Sorry for what? Why would you be sorry? _Harry,_ that was - _you_ were _amazing."_

 "You really mean that?"

"Oh, please, don't pretend like you don't already know how incredible you are." 

...

"Are we going to lay in bed for the rest of the night?" 

"Mmhmm," Harry murmured as he hugged him tighter.  

"No, but I'm really, really hungry," Peter whined.  "All that sex and intense feelings wiped me out. I'm famished. You need to feed me."

"Eat me," Harry said. 

Peter responded by playfully nom-nom'ing on Harry's shoulder and working his way up the boy's neck until he was nibbling on his earlobe. 

 _"Ah!_ Oh, _oh nooo,_ oh, ah," Harry giggled, "ahh- _actually_ that really tickles. It tickles! Please, stop." Peter backed off immediately after hearing that, a huge grin spread out on his face. "Fine, I give. I surrender. Pass me my phone and I'll order us some food."

He scrolled through his bookmarks to find the website for his favorite local pizza joint. "How hungry are you?"

...

A little more than an hour later, both boys were camped out in Osborn's family room with two large empty pizza boxes between them. Harry was in a state of mild disbelief, he'd only been able to eat three and a half slices, meanwhile Peter had not only finished an entire large pizza by himself but had also finished what was left of Harry's. 

"If I didn't know Aunt May, I'd think they were starving you."

"I told you I was hungry."

"Are you sure you don't have a tapeworm or something? Holy. Hell. I feel a little sick just from watching that."

 

...


	19. Kiddie-pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just watched the first episode of Netflix's Iron Fist. Not what I was expecting or hoping to see so far (no longer feeling eager to incorporate any of those elements into the story, although I guess I probably wasn't going to get too hung up on it anyhow). Ugh, but here's hoping for a pick-me-up in the form of comments. Yes, maybe? Sorry I don't have more to post. Between work and life and the big brainstorming mess of notes everywhere.. it's really hard to get a complete chapter. 
> 
> Status: Unfinished Drafts
> 
> Deadpool & Spider-Man, Peter & Wade, and also a glimpse at the potential strain this puts on Peter & Harry. 
> 
> Brainstorming Potential Quips and Conversations for Deadpool & Spidey Interactions.

**Scene Ideas**

 

 

Context: Wade Wilson brings Peter Parker inside "Saint Margaret's School for Wayward Girls."

"Ignore Weasel, he's a terrible influence," Wade spoke dismissively of the frumpy bartender.

Weasel made a gesture towards himself with his thumb and then forefinger, _"Me?"_  he asked incredulously. _" **I'** m_ a terrible influence? **No -** _yes,_ but **_you."_** He pointed a finger at Wade, _"You are so much worse."_

"Nonsense. Like I said, don't ever listen to him, kid."

"Ya know, you should probably stop calling him that," Weasel spoke offhand, either choosing to cede the previous argument in Wade's favor or just giving up on it entirely at this point since it didn't really matter. They were both terrible role models. "We _really_ shouldn'tbe letting kids in here. Do you want me to lose my liqueur licence?" 

"Wait. You're _actually_ licensed to sell alcohol?"

_"Am I?_ Actually, that's beside the point. This isn't a child friendly environment." There was a very pointed glance spared around the room at that.  

"No," Wade said.  "I wouldn't worry about any of that, _them,"_ he waved a hand. "No. We're all good here. Just maybe stick close to me, okay, Twiggy?"

"That's not my name _and I'm not a kid!"_ Pete whined, arms crossed over his chest and veering very close to openly pouting.  

"You keep saying that, and it gets more adorable everytime. I don't know how, but it does." 

Wade playfully ruffled Peter's hair, ignoring the teen's glowering since he obviously didn't mind  _that much_ or else he'd have used his stupid fast reflexes to attempt a proper dodge. Clearly, Petey was playing it cool and just trying not to embarrass them both by openly reciprocating the warm gooey happy feelings that were definitely fostering between them. _Ha._ Teenagers are all the same in that respect. 

"Back at the -" Peter glanced at Weasel uneasily, not really wanting to admit that he went to an underground and probably very illegal fight club.  _"The place,_ you said you had the inside track on _The Avengers."_

"Hm?" Wade had to think about that. "Yeah, _oh yeahh._ Hey, Weez!" 

"Huh?" Weasel prompted him to continue. Slow night, he thought, probably no harm in humoring Wade. 

"Did I ever tell you the story of how I was almost an Avenger?"

"Hmmm," he pretended to think about that. Then Weasel surprised himself by actually remembering something. "Oh, yeah. Was that the one about a one eyed black pirate with a leather fetish?" 

"Yup, that's the one!"

"Wait, _what?"_  Peter went slack in disbelief before his whole body stiffened with anger. He should've known that this weirdo was just yanking his chain. 

"No, yeah, _I know._ It _sounds_ ridiculous, but I need to preempt this by saying that it is all absolutely 100% true. Hand to Sexy Garneir Model Thunder God, Thor. Who I actually totally definitely met this one time, separate altogether unrelated story. Let's take this one flashback sequence at a time, so...  There I was, _minding my own business_ when,  _completely unwarranted -_  sorry, _I mean,_  do secret government spy organizations ever even bother with warrants? Do they even have any legitimate jurisdiction or do they just have carte blanche to butt in whenever they feel like it? Huh..." Wade seemed to get stuck in that thought and went suddenly quiet.

"So you were saying, ..." Weasel gently prompted him to continue, since Peter was too busy quietly fuming over his feelings of being duped. And to be honest, Weasel already felt bad for the kid, because his life must be some kind of awful (or he must be a special kind of stupid) for him to have decided that hanging out with Wade was a good idea. 

"Right," Wade snapped back to himself. "So, anyway, a horde of angry suits, form fitting black latex and this long leather jacket swoops in. Or maybe swoop is the wrong word here, maybe it'd be more apt to say..."

"Here, kid," Weasel slid a soda over to Peter. The kid opened his mouth to object, to say that he didn't want anything. "It's on the house," Weasel generously offered, "don't worry about it." Wade was still yammering on in the background, lost in the minutiae of how best to describe the manner in which the SHIELD Agents interrupted his completely innocent and definitely nonviolent house party. "Get comfortable, this might take awhile."

...

Context: Peter sports a domino mask, a hoodie and fingerless gloves while he trains with Deadpool.  

"You need some kind of mask. Even a paper bag would do. Something to cover up your face. Nothing should be more precious to you than keeping your secret identity  _secret."_

"If that's true, then how come everyone seems to already know who _you_ are."

"Because once it's out there, it's out there, kid. No take backs. Unless you make some kind of deal with a literal devil or crossroads demon or some insanely powerful telepath who can mind wipe the entire planet."

...

Context: Peter and Wade hanging out in the nastier part of town and just waiting for some shit to go down so that Petey can play hero. 

"What about that guy? Maybe we should follow him. He looks suspicious. Don't you think he looks suspicious?" 

"No, Wade, it's getting late. I really should go home and get some sleep." 

"It's only nine thirty and _it's a Friday._ Not as if you have school tomorrow. Hey! Maybe you should call home and tell them you're spending the night with Barry again. We could do so much superhero training. A super sleepover, whaddya say?"

"No," Peter shook his head. "I can't keep lying to my aunt and uncle about this. And what if they accidentally mention any of this to Harry? No, I can't do that." 

"But yes to the sleepover, right?" 

Peter groaned, _"Nooo,_ Wade. I actually do have plans tomorrow." 

"Don't tell me you found yourself a new superhero mentor. I saw you getting cozy with Daredevil the other night." 

...

Context: In response to Tombstone's number two, Hammerhead, attempting to recruit young Peter to work for him (after they observed the boys success in the underground cage fights). Deadpool decides to threaten those assclowns on Peter's behalf.

 

"Listen here, Hamster, Dead-Squirt is under my protection now. Any of your goons so much as look at him wrong, and I will move on them lightning ninja fast. I will be like your worst zombie nightmare come to life, swear to god. I don't care how many times you shoot me in the head, I will keep coming back. You don't want an immortal and super vengeful lunatic on your ass, now, _do ya?"_

 ...

Okay, so giving Wade his cellphone number was probably not a good call. Peter switched his phone to vibrate in an effort to make it a little less annoying. Even the lightest setting was still jarring to his senses, with the almost constant humming of the device in his pocket. Harry kept watching queerly. _Err,_ Harry kept looking at him funny whenever the damn thing would go off, and it was beyond distracting.

"Who keeps texting you?" Harry asked after what must've been ten straight minutes. Even Peter wasn't oblivious enough to not notice that Oz was really ticked off at the constant interruptions.

"It's no one," Peter tried to brush it off. Harry raised an accusatory brow but said nothing as the phone vibrated again. Peter visibly winced, "No one _important_ , I mean. It's just some guy."

"Some guy I know?" Harry asked.

Peter emphatically shook his head. "Definitely probably not. He's not really the type to rub elbows with -" he gestured around Harry's penthouse apartment, "and he kind of goes to a girl's school. I mean, _forget I said that._ It's weird. _He's_ weird." Probably shouldn't mention Saint Margaret's. _'No,_ definitely _shouldn't mention that.'_

Harry dropped his pencil and crossed his arms, no longer bothering to pretend that he was the least bit focused on homework anymore. Harry gave Peter his full attention. _"So... how_  did this weird guy get your phone number? And why haven't you blocked him yet?"

"It's a long... _complicated_ story." Harry's intent gaze didn't waver. Peter sighed, _"We just -_ met, and he seemed really cool _at first."_

"So why's he blowing up your phone?"

"Well, I guess, it turns out - he's a little bit, um, clingy. And he -" Peter grimaced,  _"he kind-of-sort-of-thinks-we're-besties,"_ he mumbled the last part. Unfortunately, Harry still understood every word.

"Did you tell him that you _already_ have a best friend?"

_"No?"_ Peter groaned in frustration, "I kind of forgot to mention that. _I mean,_ it's not that I _forgot_ that I already have one, but it just seems like a rude thing to say since he never asked. _Besides, I_ \- I think I made it pretty clear that I don't see him that way."

Peter's phone buzzed again.

"Evidently not," came Harry's glum response.

_"Sorry,"_ Peter apologized, sounding frazzled and deflated as he finally reached into his pocket. He dug his phone out and unlocked it to glance at the litany of unread texts that awaited him.

Harry wanted to suggest that he just turn the damn thing off so they could get back to their homework. If May or Ben really needed to reach Peter, they knew how to reach Harry and it wouldn't be the first time they had to call Osborn's phone after Peter's had suffered an untimely demise. Harry barely resisted the urge to get up and throw a lousy fit when he noticed Peter's fingers rapidly tapping out a response. Instead Harry just slumped back into the couch cushions and directed a glare at the wall positioned on the other side of Peter. It was a lame cop out, displacing his anger onto an inanimate object, but he thought it probably wasn't fair for him to be upset with Peter. Parker has always struggled to make friends, so it would be cruel to discourage him now, wouldn't it? _'Dammit.'_

Still, Harry couldn't help getting curious. He started to lean closer, attempting to maybe catch a glimpse of the contact name or what Peter and this mystery man were talking about. But Peter immediately curled in on himself, reflexively trying to defend his privacy by obscuring Harry's view of the little screen. Reluctantly, Harry pulled back and huffed.

"It's fine. _Whatever,"_ he grumbled. He swept a hand over where their books and papers were still littering the coffee table. "This stuff is _so easy,_ it's not as if _I need_ your help explaining it or anything." Unfortunately, the delivery of his sarcastic comment lacked the classic tone that might've alerted Peter to Harry's true intent, so Parker took this at face value.

"Oh, if you're all good here, do you mind if I -" Peter gestured between himself and the door. Harry stared at him in disbelief.

_"You wanna bail?"_ Harry said it so tonelessly that Peter somehow failed to pick up on the incredulity of the statement.

"Yeah," Peter was still semi-distracted by his phone, which still seemed to be buzzing every couple seconds with new messages. "Sorry, do you mind?"

Harry was so pissed just then that he didn't stop to think at all before responding.

_"Go."_ It was well beyond upsetting. He regretted it almost as soon as he said it. A terrible feeling dropped from his throat to his gut and then fell through the floor as he watched his friend gather his things to leave.

"I'm really sorry," Peter called as he pulled his shoes on. "I can check your answers over tomorrow before school or during passing time we can exchange real fast and - I'll think of something. I can -"

_"Just go,_ Pete. I can manage."

"Okay. Okay, cool. Bye, Harry." The door closed behind Pete and that left Harry all alone.

"Bye," Harry belatedly whispered. As the silence lengthened, the room seemed to stretch wider and Harry was consumed by loneliness. When his attention returned back to his homework, all of his notes blurred and bended together until they were reduced to complete gibberish. It was like all his energy and concentration had just left him. Just like Peter. Gone.

 

**Potential Dialogue**

...

**Needs More Pouches**

Context: Peter Parker models his Spider-Man costume for the first time in front of Deadpool. 

Wade is definitely going to criticise Peter's costume.

"It needs more pouches."

"What do I need pouches for?"

"Because... Where else are you going to store all your extra amo and emergency candy bars? What about your rubber chicken and confetti? These things are vital! Absolutely vital crime fighting materials. Are you rolling your eyes at me behind that mask?" 

"Look," Peter tugged at where the top half of his costume connected to the bottom. Wade immediately did the opposite, covering his eyes and looking away. 

"Nuh-uh! Don't need to see that."

"Oh, shut up, pervert. I was just going to show you my super sleek utility belt."

"Utility belt?" Wade lowered his hands so he could place them on his hips in a haughty pose. "Seriously? You say no to my glorious abundance of pouches but yes to that monstrosity?" 

Peter rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. He didn't want to admit that he was taking the advice of his high school friends over the ex-special forces super mercenary. "It's more practical." 

Wade crossed his arms and huffed. 

"It is! At least for my purposes. A bunch of pouches would be too clunky, they'd mess with my aerodynamics. The belt is the most practical means to store my extra web cartridges and emergency solvents." 

...

**Codename**

Context: Peter and Wade discuss Peter's Super Hero Identity and what he should use for a codename. 

"Okay, but I really think we should revisit the topic of your codename."

"Why? What's wrong with Spider-Man?"

"I mean, don't you think it's a little too, I don't know... Literal? Like it describes your whole gimmick and takes away the element of surprise." 

"So... What you're saying is I should pick something that has absolutely no connection to my abilities, my weapons or my crime fighting style?" 

"Exactly. You need something playful and ambiguous." 

"Like Deadpool." 

"You cannot steal my name."

"Then what were you about to suggest?" 

"Kiddie-pool."

Peter groaned. 

"No, wait, hear me out!" 

"I am not going to be your sidekick!" 

"Yeah, right, but you just happened to model your costume after mine." 

_"I did not-"_

"You so did! _Liar, liar, pants on fire!"_

_..._

**_What is Real?_ **

Context: Wade and Peter are relaxing after some strenuous exercise. Wade appears to be getting philosophical. (I have notes somewhere for this scene, which basically describes my version of why Wade is allowed to break the fourth wall by "knowing" he's in a piece of fiction. Taking inspiration from Abed's character in Community, where it's a symptom of a psychological disorder and essentially boils down to being a coping mechanism.)

...

Kris:  
I kind of want Peter to make mistakes with Wade of the secret identity fail type.

But Deadpool keeps his secret. Because he's a good bro, even if they do leave off on bad terms when Peter finds out that he kills people for money.

Like he actually knows Peter's first name, where he goes to school and which part of town Peter lives in. Also, he knows he lives with his aunt and uncle and the first names of Peter's friends.

Basically, he knows who Peter is.

Because Peter was too excited to think about concealing his identity. Deadpool's the one that drives home the point of how stupid that is and urges him to use an alias.

Which is also an excuse for calling him all sorts of nicknames, "Yes, I know that's not your name, but I'm not using your name because bad guys have ears, Peter _Pan."_ Oop, _nice save._ "So fly on over here with your magic fairy dust and help me tie these guys up. Come on. Hurry up, before Captain Hook catches up to us!"

Okay, yeah, now he's really trying to oversell that slip of the tongue. "Never Say Never Land!"


End file.
